


RickRollFord

by kinky_dominasterisk



Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, Cabin Sex, Cheating, Copius Amounts of Sex, Drunk Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Frottage, Human Bill Cipher, M/M, Masturbation, Polyamorous relationship, Substance Abuse, Threesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-05-30 06:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 39,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6411742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinky_dominasterisk/pseuds/kinky_dominasterisk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stanford Pines attends his first year of school at Backupsmore and almost immediately gets caught up with the wrong crowd. A 70's au that really got out of hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Bad Influence

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fic that I started for a couple of friends to make a long joke, then it got really long. Please don't let the tags scare you; I promise this is a lot of fun.

It wasn’t exactly his dream school. It wasn’t exactly his dream school at all. But Backupsmore University was all Ford had after Stanley had ruined his chances of getting into West Coast Tech. As he sat through the dean’s orientation speech, he resolved himself to work even harder to make something of himself. He packed on as many classes as he could, took on work study shifts, and participated in as many research experiments as possible. He was more likely to be found in the basement of library than his own dorm room. He lost weight, so absorbed in his work he never heard the alarms he set for himself as a reminder to eat. Before he knew it, he was forgoing sleep in futile attempts to keep working on whatever paper he needed to write to impress his teachers.

“I don’t know how other people do it,” Ford complained in the cafeteria to his friend, Bill Cipher. “No matter how much coffee i drink, I keep losing hours of work to sleep! How do you do it, Bill?”

“I’m a being of pure energy and no weaknesses,” Bill said idly, stirring his oatmeal. 

“Bill, be serious.”

“Alright. So,  _ I _ don’t do this because I’m invincible, but I know about a guy who...distributes some pills that could make you pull an all-nighter for three days straight.”

“That’s exactly what I need for my biochem midterm paper!” Ford leaned across the cafeteria table. “Where is he?”

“Whoa, hey. You oughta know those type of guys don’t do this for charity work. You don’t even know how much this will cost you.”

Ford sank back down to his side of the table. He also didn’t know what exactly the substance was. Did they make pill forms of cocaine these days? If it was cocaine, it would probably be really expensive. Plus, he didn’t need to get addicted to cocaine.

“It’s not cocaine, Sixer.”

Ford looked away. Bill always credited his ability to know what Ford was thinking to “omnipotence” but Ford just assumed his own face was too easy to read. 

“Listen, I’ll bring you to him and I’ll spot you for the first pack.”

Ford looked at Bill eagerly. Bill rolled his eyes and got up to throw his uneaten oatmeal in the trash. “Come on, Sixer. Let’s go introduce you to a bad influence.”

______

 

Ford had expected an alley. This was still on campus. Granted it was a part of campus that wasn’t very populated and even Ford hadn’t known the corridor existed. He had always assumed the door opened to a janitor’s closet. Whoever this guy was, only people who wanted to find him would be able to find him. Ford asked how Bill knew the guy but Bill’s response was the standard cryptic “I know everything”. Actually, Bill’s response was spelled out in a Caesar cipher to have Ford be quiet figuring it out while Bill led the way. 

There was another door at the end of the corridor, on which Bill knocked three short knocks. 

“Password?” A gravelly voice asked from the other side of the door.

“You don’t  _ have _ a password,” Bill sighed, and the door creaked open.

Apparently, Bill’s guy was just another student who made a dorm room out of some hidden chamber of secrets. The kid burped a greeting to Bill while not looking up from his robotics magazine. With a wave of his bony hand, he gestured to the desk which had a container filled with many different colored pills. The container was sectioned with each partition holding a specific color. Sticky notes were posted at the top indicating an abstract dosage. 

“Mmmm, you probably want the blue stuff,” Bill poked the container. “Hey Rick. Can we get a student pack?”

“Rick” grumbled and groaned as he was forced to get off his bed. He opened a drawer of the desk and pulled out twelve blue pills neatly packed into aluminum and film. He wobbled a bit when he slapped it into Cipher’s hand and held his own hand out for payment. Bill, always a snappy dresser, reached into his vest to pull out a leather wallet. Rick’s hand received two crisp twenty dollar bills. It wanted for more.

“What? No student discount?” Bill had on a smile that would put a used car salesman to shame.

“Eat,” Rick paused. He seemed to be holding back another belch. “...my entire ass.”

Charming. Ford was beginning to think the entire ordeal was a mistake. He tugged on Bill’s sleeve to say he wanted to leave, but Bill had a look on his face. Ford knew the look well. It meant Bill was not going to budge until he got his way. His lips were spread so far apart Ford could nearly see wisdom teeth. Bill had opened his eyes so wide, his ridiculous amber colored glass eye threatened to fall out. Apparently Rick had seen this look before because he seemed completely unperturbed. He repeated his request for a thorough ass eating. Bill sighed and slapped some more bills into Rick’s hand and promptly left the room. It took a minute for Ford to register he should have followed. He had been… mesmerized. There was something inexplicably fascinating about Rick’s character. Maybe it was his sloppy slouch; maybe it was Bill’s inability to phaze Rick. Rick caught Ford staring out of his peripheral vision.

“What, you uh, you see something you like?” Rick’s flippant tone caught Ford off guard.

Ford didn’t want Rick to see the blush that reddened Ford’s face, so Ford quickly exited the room and hurried after Bill.

_______

 

“Jeez, were you making out with him in there?” Bill leaned on his ebony cane outside the false janitor’s door. 

Ford buried his face into his turtleneck.

“You were!” Bill screeched. 

Bill doubled over, howling with laughter. Ford tried to protest, but Bill’s laughter was too loud. There was only one thing to do when he got like this. Ford waited with his ears burning for Bill’s laughs to turn into wheezes, and then the familiar click of an inhaler and Bill’s exaggerated inhalation.

“One of these days, you’re going to laugh yourself to death,” Ford mumbled.

“Great way to go, in my honest opinion to be quite honest,” asthma couldn’t stop Bill from grinning. 

“I wasn’t making out with him. I didn’t even say anything to him.”

It was too late. Bill was in a grinning mood. He was absolutely insufferable this way. Ford had to get the pills and get on his way; that paper was not about to write itself. 

“How much do I owe you?”

“Relaaaax, Sixer. i told you i’d spot this one.” Bill tossed Ford the pill pack. “But if you wanna buy your own, it’s like, seven dollars a pill.”

“What!?”

“Like I said, he’s not doing charity work here.”

Ford looked at the pills, bewildered. He doubted he could afford that regularly. He would have to save the pills for very stressful occasions. Ford stuffed the pills into his coat pocket and walked his way back to his dorm room. 

Some books had fallen over, and Ford had to force his way through the door into his room. He really had some organizing to do. But the paper...oh, he was never going to be able to concentrate with this mess. Ford tossed the pills onto the last bit of empty space on his desk and set  himself to alphabetizing his books. This one was from the school library, this one was from the public library, this one was a textbook...Oh wow, what time was it? Ford checked the clock Bill gave him. It was a strange present: a head that had its mouth permanently open in a screaming grimace. The numbers glowed softly under the tongue: ten twenty eight. Ford cursed. His paper was due in ten hours. He shoved the remaining books off his desk and slammed down his notebook. As soon as he sat down, he felt the weight of exhaustion. This was the exact opposite of what he needed. Ford picked up the pack of pills. He realized he didn’t know if he needed to take two pills or just one. Probably just one. Ford popped the pill out of its air pocket and tossed it into his mouth. Dry swallowing a pill was not as easy as he thought. 

It didn’t take long for the pill to start working it’s magic. The exhaustion lifted and Ford suddenly felt the most focused he had ever felt in his life. He clicked his pen and put the ink to paper. His paper nearly wrote itself. Ford only stopped to check the time when the head clock started screaming. It jolted Ford out of his drug enhanced focus and made him realize he’d literally just spent the last eight hours just  _ writing _ . He didn’t have time to proofread, so he stapled his papers together and slid them into a plastic cover before taking a quick shower and rushing to class. 

He should have known there would be consequences; there was always a crash after a high. Feeling extraordinarily haggard, he walked to the cafeteria after class looking to talk to Bill. He found the strange friend on the patio, cutting a sandwich into triangles and those triangles into smaller triangles. 

“Late night?” Bill snickered.

 

“I had one of those pills you bought me,” Ford realized he had forgotten to even get food. “What is it called?”

“Blue Sting,” Bill pushed his tiny sandwiches to Ford. “Cousin to Magic Wave.”

Ford didn’t even pretend to know what Magic Wave was. “I thought you said it was supposed to last three days. I’m already crashing.”

“I lied.”

Ford put his head on the table. Exhaustion dragged him down like a sinking ship. He briefly wondered if he was becoming too tired to even breathe. Bill was egging him to skip class and Ford was seriously considering it. A warm bed sounded so inviting. Even the cold plastic of the cafeteria table felt refreshing. One skipped class wouldn’t hurt. Ford sat up straight, shook his head, and wrapped up the sandwiches. 

“Are you skipping? Have I finally gotten you to be the bad boy once in your life?” Bill had this leer on his face.

“I think I’ve already crossed that threshold when I consumed a non-FDA approved substance to help me stay awake,” Ford said, triggering a laughing attack from Bill.

Bill went from whooping to wheezing to weeping. “You’re such… a nerd.”

“And I’ve got the smarts to prove it.”

With that, Ford went back to his dorm, ready to sleep for the next for the next three days.


	2. And Then They Dicked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford interrogates Rick about his product and then Bill and Rick have sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly have no idea what I'm doing lmao. When I first started writing this fic, I honestly never expected to write smut between Rick Sanchez and Bill Cipher, but here I am.

Just as it is very difficult to stay awake for three straight days, it is also very difficult to sleep for three straight days. Ford woke up somewhere in the middle of the second day. He had the strangest dream. He had dreamt Bill was a triangle, yellow and two dimensional. Other than that it wasn’t actually very strange. It was almost like a normal school day, except his friend was a floating triangle. In the dream, Bill and Ford had gone to see Rick, who had nothing to say except, “this shit again, Cipher?”. It was very bizarre and so unlike his typical dreams that Ford decided he would have to talk to Bill about side effects, like hallucinogenic dreaming.

“I dunno. I don’t actually use them,” Bill shrugged, pouring hot sauce into his oatmeal. 

Ford stood bewildered at the table. “Then why do you even buy them.”

“I don’t. I just like talking to Rick.”

“Can you bring me to him again? I have to ask him about the side effects.”

Bill rolled his head around from side to side before making a sound that sounded like “ok”. Inside the Corridor of Secrets, Bill only had to knock once before the door swung wide open. Rick was intoxicated, but that was putting it nicely. He was totally plastered. The flask in his hand kept spilling, and Ford wondered how much liquid it even held when so much of it was falling on the floor or Rick’s hand or his clothes. Rick greeted Bill with a sloppy kiss. Ford couldn’t help but stare.

“Whassa matter?” Rick slurred. “Never seen a couple of fags before?”

That wasn’t it. Most public displays of affection made Ford uncomfortable, homosexual or not. Usually he would just politely look away, but the spontaneity of this kiss somehow rendered him unable to look away. It never occurred to Ford that Bill could be gay. Even with that information, he would have never connected Bill and Rick as lovers. 

“Relax,” Bill said to the both of them. “he’s just here to ask his doctor about side effects.”

Bill pushed Rick towards Ford. “Tell us doc, is Blue Sting right for our patient?”

“My office,” Rick dragged Ford to the bed in the room and made Ford sit down. “Are you having problems with my medicine?”

“Well, uh, I was just wondering if there were any side effects,” Ford said.

“Mmhmm. Yeah. There aren’t,” Rick rummaged in his desk drawer for another flask.

“Really? Not even, say strange dreams?”

“My meds don’t cause wet dreams, buddy. There’s this thing called puberty.” Rick took a swig.

Ford flushed. “It wasn’t like that. I, uh, I can’t remember much, but I remember a floating yellow triangle.” He didn’t want to admit out loud he was dreaming about a friend.

“Buddy if you aren’t seeing triangles in your dreams, you aren’t dreaming correctly. Like, what’s a dream without triangles, am I right Bill? The fractals? The entropy of four dimensional forms? Sounds to me what you need is Cosmic Rift,” Rick pointed to the green pills in his display. “Twelve a pop.”

“I can’t afford that! I didn’t even come for more drugs!” Ford protested.

“Then get out. I’ve got some dick to eat.”

Ford didn’t need to be told twice. The door slammed behind him. Ford hurried in case he started hearing things he did not want to hear.

 

___

 

“That was mean,” Bill cooed.

“Man wasn’t buying,” Rick shrugged. 

Bill smirked. “ _ I _ never do.”

 

And then they dicked. It was hot. For everyone. Including you. 

 

Rick and Bill were not tender lovers. The basis of their relationship was sex only, and both of them were perfectly fine with that.  Rick pulled at Bill's tie to draw him in closer.  His kiss was sloppy yet again, and tasted strongly of malt liquor. Rick's hands wasted no time wandering Bill's body. It was well charted territory, but the naked skin was obstructed by three layers of silk and satin.

   "Take your shit off," Rick demanded, squeezing Bill's ass through the pants pockets.

How could Bill ever refuse such a charming demand? Letting his cane fall, Bill leaned back against the wall for support as he unbuttoned his black vest and yellow triangle patterned shirt. Rick pawed off the tie and pushed the fabric back so he could suck at Bill's neck. Bill busied his hands by unbuckling Rick's pants and reaching for Rick's cock. Semi hard already, Rick moaned into Bill's collarbones when he felt Bill's leather gloves on his dick. Instinctively, he rutted his crotch against Bill's hand.

   "Hey, you've got some dick to eat," Bill reminded him.

Rick mumbled something unintelligible and brushed his fingers across Bill's nipples. Bill suppressed a moan. Sex with RIck was a competition, and he wasn't about to break his winning streak over some sloppy foreplay. Rick knew more tricks than that. He spread some kisses out around Bill's chest. Bill sucked in his breath when Rick swirled his tongue around Bill’s nipple. Rick cackled and pressed his hand against Bill’s crotch, feeling for Bill’s growing dick. Bill closed his eyes and focused on breathing through his nose and how good Rick’s hand felt. When he decided Bill was hard enough, Rick dropped to his knees and kissed Bill’s navel.

“I’m gonna take the whole thing,” he announced.

Bill opened his eyes just to roll them. “You never take the whole thing.”

“I’m gonna,” Rick repeated. 

Rick wrangled with Bill’s belt buckle until he found the simple button that caused the buckle to simply click open. Eagerly, Rick pulled down Bill’s pants and boxers. Bill’s dick popped out and hit Rick in the eye.

“Augh! Fuck!” Rick recoiled.

Bill burst out laughing. He laughed so hard, he lost his balance and fell to the floor. Even after impact, Bill continued laughing until he was wheezing. Rick rolled his eyes and thumped Bill on the chest. Bill coughed and reduced his laughter to sniggering.

“Now you know how I lost  _ my _ eye!”

“Shut the fuck up, “ Rick growled and firmly planted his lips on Bill’s to shut the bastard up.

Now that he was in the lead, Bill allowed himself to moan when Rick grinded their cocks together. Rick was hardly kissing him, and more panting onto BIll’s mouth. Bill tugged on Rick’s hair and guided Rick back down to his crotch.

“There’s a condom in my wallet. Put it to goddamn use, would you?”

Rick grumbled and fished the wallet out of Bill’s pants pocket. His drunken fingers fumbled with the wallet, but managed to get the foil wrapper out.

“What the hell is this? Pumpkin spice flavor?”

“Limited edition” Bill grinned.

“Pumpkin spice’s disgusting,” so Rick said, but he put the condom on anyways.

Very few things were better than a Rick Sanchez blow job to Bill. Some of those things were chaos and money, but damn did Rick have a good mouth on him. Bill squirmed on the floor, wanting to push his hips up and really fuck Rick’s mouth.

“Come onnnnn, you’d said you’d take the whole thing,” Bill whined.

Impatient, he tangled his fingers in Rick’s hair and pushed Rick’s head down. Rick gagged in protest and thumped his fist against Bill’s dead leg. Merciless, Bill kept Rick’s head down until he could feel Rick’s lips at the base of his shaft. Bill couldn’t stop himself from moaning this time. Running his hands through his own hair, Bill forced Rick to quicken his pace. He wanted to orgasm so badly. He jerked his hips up erratically, earning more protests from Rick, but he got want he wanted. Bill shuddered as his seed released into the reservoir tip of the condom. With a final moan, Bill relaxed into the floor and let go of Rick’s hair.

“You fucking piece of shit bastard,” Rick immediately started swearing. “I could have choked to death you mandingo assbag.”

“Sounds like fun, if you ask me,” Bill hummed. 

Rick thumped his fist on Bill’s dead leg again. “Whatever. Shut up. I’m gonna come on you.”

Bill laid back as Rick shuffled out of his pants. Rick straddled Bill’s abdomen with Bill’s pumpkin spice flavored dick behind him. Rick spit into his hand, earning an eye rolling from Bill, and started jacking off. This was round two. Bill was going to win this one too. He initiated a staring contest, and Rick took the bait. Bill was the best of prolonging eye contact. To make RIck more comfortable, Bill would occasionally lick his lips or blow an air kiss. It was infuriatingly distracting to Rick. His cock twitched and throbbed in his hand, and it was becoming difficult for Rick to focus on anything except his oncoming orgasm.

“Shit!” Rick cried as he closed his eyes when his orgasm hit full force.

Rick’s spunk hit Bill in the chest, right over the general heart area. The white cream contrasted heavily against his blue-black skin.

“Whooooo,” Bill made Victory V’s with his hands. “Two for two. That’s six up on you, Rickroll.”

Rick grunted as he flopped onto the floor next to Rick. “Fuck you, Cipher.”

Bill pulled himself up into a sitting position. He took of the condom and tossed it in Rick’s wastebasket. Bill grabbed the sleeve of Rick’s shirt to wipe the semen off his chest. Rick protested, seeing his was still wearing the shirt. Getting his shirt back, Rick immediately tossed it off and pulled up his pants. He helped Bill stand up and handed Bill his cane. 

“I’ll see you next week. Might bring Pines,” Bill told Rick.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rick dismissively waved his hand. “Get the fuck outta my room.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford wants to get answers but he just ends up with more drugs.

Ford sat in his room contemplating the mystery of the universe: his friend Bill Cipher. It wasn’t any of Ford’s business, he knew that, but he wished Bill had told him about being gay. Ford considered himself a trustworthy friend; he thought he would have been supportive. Bill seemed unbothered by the fact Ford had been there to see Rick kiss Bill. So maybe it was simply a matter of it never coming up. Bill rarely ever volunteered personal facts. Still, Ford had to wonder what it meant if he had to buy drugs from his own boyfriend. He had only met Rick twice, but he could tell Rick was not an upstanding character. The man sold apparently hand-made drugs. But if he knew how to mix chemicals and supposedly without side effects, he must also be incredibly smart. Ford took out the pill pack and flipped it over. He didn’t need them for anything, but he was curious enough to run some tests. 

He rented a lab in the basement of the science building, where there was very little traffic to peer in through the door. Ford taped a piece of paper over the window anyways. He prepared for science. He brought out beakers and bunsen burners and erlenmeyer flasks and microscopes. He put on a white lab coat and washes his hands. He put on safety goggles. He was ready for science. 

He spent too much time on science. It’s eleven at night when he looked up from his tests. He had a lot of homework to do and not enough time to do it. Not if he planned on sleeping. He still had three blue pills left. Ford did not even need to be tempted. He popped one in his mouth and got his textbooks out of his bookbag. 

He was late to class anyways. He didn’t think to bring the screaming head alarm clock, so when he finally finished the lab report of Theoretical Physics he was fifteen minutes late. Luckily the professor took roll at the end of class. Ford rushed out of the room, still adorning the lab coat. 

“Are you ready for science?” Bill held up two beakers. “You sure look like you do!”

Ford plopped down on the lab bench next to Bill.

“Blue Sting again?”

“Don’t!” Ford glanced around the room. “Don’t say that out loud!”

“Relax, Sixer, ain’t nobody but us that knows what that means.”

Ford looked around the room again before leaning close to Bill. “I ran some tests on it last night,” he whispered. “Whatever the stuff’s made of, it’s not from Earth.”

“That’s ridiculous! You think he’s selling space drugs? We can’t even get to space. You know the moon landing was faked?”

“No it wasn’t, stop saying that! And what else could it be!?”

Bill shrugged. 

“Well, anyways, I’m going to confront him about.”

“You’re going to tell him off for selling space drugs.”

“No, however he got his ingredients must mean he has developed some technology that enables him to contact aliens or explore alien planets! I’ve got to get my hands on it!”

Bill rolled his eyes. “Whatever, nerd.”

 

_____

 

Ford knew the way to Rick’s chamber now, so he left Bill behind after class and made a beeline right to it. His knocking must have woken Rick because the man opened the door in a tank top and boxers. He seemed hung over, despite it being two in the afternoon. Ford wasted no time explaining the reason of his visit.

“Where did you get your ‘medicine’?” Ford demanded.

“Man, I  _ told _ you,” Rick belched. “No side effects.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about! Your product is made of components not found on Earth, so I want to know where and how you got them!”

“Jesus Christ, lower your voice! Gonna let the whole damn world know I live here,” Rick pulled Ford into the room.

Rick’s room had no ventilation and reeked like a distillery. Bottles of various booze littered the floor. Ford was not going to remove his shoes here. 

“Alright,” Rick was drinking from an unmarked bottle with brown liquid and what looked to be a snake inside. “How much do you know?”

“Just what I told you.”

“Alright. Don’t have to tell you anything then.”

“What!? No! I demand answers!”

“Well, I’m not gonna tell them! I’m not gonna sell sources to competition.”

“That’s  _ not _ what I’m here for. I want to know how you got alien compounds. Did you go to acquire them, or were they brought to you? What kind of technology did you use? Was there sentient life, or was the land barren of intelligence?”

Rick closed his eyes and pinched his nose. “Lower your fucking voice. You think I’m selling space drugs?”

“Aren’t you?”

Rick groaned. “Look, does it even matter? The stuff sells, who cares where it came from?”

“Yes it does matter! This information could be huge breakthroughs in contacting extraterrestrial life!”

“Listen, aliens aren’t shit. You know what’s the shit? My shit. You gonna buy any?” Rick pointed to the pill container. “I’ll give you a discount on either Blue Stinger or Cosmic Rift.”

Ford opened his mouth.

“I ain’t gonna tell you even if you buy it.”

Ford closed his mouth. Because of his tests, he only had two Blue Stinger pills left. The midterm crunch was only half over. Ford knew he would need more. 

“How much?”

“I’ll let you have whatever you want for fifty.”

With an offer like that, Ford might as well take the whole container home. “Why give me a discount?”

“You’re one of Cipher’s buddies.”

“You make Bill full price.”

“Ah, he can afford it. ‘Sides, he’s not as cute as you are.”

Ford flushed and looked away. Wasn’t inappropriate to comment your boyfriend’s friend was cuter than your boyfriend? Ford grabbed the container and clutched it to his chest.

“I’m taking the whole thing, then.”

Rick burst out laughing. “Oh man, are you a smart cookie. You can have half. "

Rick pried the container from Ford and poured half the pills into a bag that was meant to hold fruit at grocery stores. "Fifty bucks, buddy-o."

Ford paid in tens and ones. He looked at his purchase. It looked like a bag of assorted M&M candies. If anyone asked, he would say it was some discount Halloween candy. Ford scurried out of Rick's room and nearly ran to his dorm building. He tossed the giant pill baggie under his bed and went to the nearest convenience store. After purchasing a six pack of tupperware, Ford hurried back to organize the pills by color. There were six different types: red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, blue, and magenta. The green and blue ones he labeled "Cosmic Rift" and "Blue Sting" with sticky notes on their tupperware boxes. He realized he had no idea what the others ones were called, so he simply labeled them by color. Bill would probably know.

   "SIXER HOLY FUCK!" Speak of the devil, and he appears.

Bill's sudden outburst caused Ford to jump out of his chair and upheave the mixed pillbag he was sorting.

"Bill, what's wrong!?"

Bill held up a flyer for a party. Ford sighed, after recovering from his initial alarm.

"Bill, I don't have time for parties."

"You do for this one!"

"No, I don't. I'm in the middle of something important."

Bill snorted. "Color coding candy? Hey wait-"

Bill stepped around Ford and picked up the tupperware box labeled Blue Sting. "Didjya rob him or something?"

"No. He gave them to me."

Bill snorted again. "Ok, yeah sure. Anyways are you coming to this party or not?"

"I already told you-"

"Sixer, come on. You and I both know how this is going to end. I'm just going to keep bothering you and you know you're going to say yes to me, so why don't we skip the formalities? The party's in minutes, Sixeroo."

Bill had a convincing argument. Ford sighed and begrudgingly agreed. He cleaned up the mess of pills on his bed while Bill laid out clothes for Ford to wear to the party. After some mild fussing on Bill's part and some comments about Ford's unhip wardrobe, they set out the to kegger.


	4. Fuck The Police

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford goes to a party and down the rabbit hole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Mulaney ghost wrote this chapter.

The party was in full swing when they got there. It was loud, crowded, and humid from beer breath. Someone was had swung from the ceiling light and pulled it out of the ceiling. The inflatable pool had jello and girls wrestling in bikinis. Empty boxes of pizza and half drunk bottles of booze littered the floor. Ford was completely out of his element.

"WUBBA LUBBA DUB DUB!" screamed a familiar voice from the living room, followed by a crash and a whooping cheer.

Bill hurried towards the commotion. Ford followed closely, not wanting to be separated from the only person he knew at the party. Rick was on top a table, vigorously shaking his hips. He was imitating some sort of one man salsa, but his inebriation made him slow in the steps. He kept tripping over his feet, and he fell from the table. The crowd around him cheered and took a swig of their drinks. Rick found his feet and was about to return to the tabletop when he spotted Bill and Ford.

“WHAT UP MY NIG -oops I can’t say that- HI ALL MY BUDDIES!!” Rick screamed. He slung himself over Bill’s shoulder and belched, loudly, a hello to Ford.

“Nice save,” Bill said dryly. 

“Hey, come on,” Rick slurred. “I, uh, I didn’t actually SAY it.”

Rick offered his red cup as an apology. Bill took it without making eye contact with Rick. Someone came nearby with an antique bottle, asking if the liquid inside was perfume or whiskey. Rick snatched the bottle and immediately drank the liquid.

“It’s perfume,” Rick announced with the confidence only drunken people can have. 

Bill burst out laughing. Ford stared appalled. Rick nodded his head to a beat only he could hear. Bill only stopped laughing when there were tears streaming down his face and he had nearly stopped breathing. Rick had to get out Bill’s inhaler for Bill. When he finally calmed down, Bill put his arm around Ford’s shoulder. 

“I’m gonna get a beer or seven,” Bill announced. “Rick, why don’t you show Ford the ropes to get totally fucking wasted.”

Bill pushed Ford towards Rick and disappeared outside. Rick grinned at Ford. Ford pointedly looked away. Rick grabbed Ford’s arm and led him into the kitchen.

“Ok, first rule,” Rick grabbed a plastic cup and poured vodka into it. “Beer before liquor, never been sicker. Or is it beer after liquor?”

Rick shrugged and pushed the cup into Ford’s chest. “Doesn’t matter. Drink up.”

Ford took a sip and immediately started sputtering. Vodka was vile. Rick handed him a can of soda, “a chaser”. Ford chugged it to get the taste out of his mouth. 

“I think I’ll stick to the soda.”

Rick snorted. “Well, that’s no fun.”

Rick took the soda can and poured some vodka into it. Then he pulled a little bottle of tequila out of his pocket and poured that in too.

“Special cocktail,” Rick said as he handed it back to Ford. “Hard Reboot.”

“Um, no thanks,” Ford held the soda can anyways. “I wanted to ask you some more questions about your...stuff, if you don’t mind.”

“UGH, FINE,” Rick groaned. “You’re probably not going to stop bothering me about it. Come on, let’s find someplace private.”

Rick led Ford upstairs. Bodies were strewn along the way. Some were upright, some were lying down. Others were tangled up in each other. The stairway seemed to be a very popular place for couples to embrace with passion and lust. Upstairs, every door with locked with screams coming from the other side. Unperturbed, Rick led Ford to the deck. 

“I thought we were going somewhere private,” Ford whispered. “There’s people all around us!”

“Ford, you ever read  _ The Great Gatsby _ ?,” Rick took a pill bottle out of his pocket. “There’s a scene with one of the girls, Jordan or something, she says she likes big parties for the privacy. Everybody wrapped up in their own conversation and shit, they don’t notice other people.”

“I remember,” Ford unconsciously took a sip of the soda cocktail, but gagged when it hit his mouth.

“Yeah, well,  _ Great Gatsby _ sucked, and F. Scott Fitzgerald was a hack, but that Jordan girl had the right idea,” Rick poured four red pills into his hand and tossed them into his mouth. 

“I see,” Ford took another sip out of habit. He was getting used to the taste. “So, I supposed I’ll ask you what everything is called?”

“What, you want names like benzenamine because I don’t know that,” Rick leaned over the railing. “Heheh, check Bill out.”

Ford followed his eyes to where Rick was pointing. In the inflatable pool with jello, Bill was wrestling one of the girls. He was wearing the smallest yellow polka dot bikin Ford had ever seen or even thought to have existed. Ford probably did not need to know how ridiculously well-endowed his friend was. Or how great his ass looked in a thong. 

“Kick her ass, Bill!” Rick yelled. Ford took a long swig of the soda, looking pointedly away.

“The names, Rick?”

“Oh, yeah yeah yeah yeah, right. Red one’s Red Velvet. Orange one, ahhhhh, Double Cream. Yellow, yellow, yellow, pretty sure it was Tiny Sunshine. Green one’s Cosmic Rift, you know that. Blue one’s Blue Sting. other blue’s Still Life. And that pinkish purplish one’s called Magic Wave.”

“What do they all do?”

“Shit, you’re going to have to ask me that when I’m sober. Or at least, less drunk.”

“And where did you get these?”

“Shit, man, alright. you got me. I’m selling space drugs(™).”

“Space drugs? Trademark?”

Rick nodded. “Space Drugs. Trademark.”

“How do you trademark something with such a generic name?”

“A shitload of paperwork.”

Ford glared at Rick. At this point he was certain Rick was just pulling his leg. Rick didn’t seem to care. He fished out a flask from his back pocket and gulped down about half the liquor. Ford looked out past the deck. Bill was still wrestling a girl in jello. The trash can in front of the house had caught fire. Someone had stolen the mailbox. Ford felt he really should not have been there. Parties were really not his scene. 

“So how’d you and Bill meet?” Rick asked spontaneously.

“Oh, well. We’re lab partners in Theoretical Physics. How did you and he meet?”

“Was trying to summon Satan, got him instead.”

God, he was so full of shit. That’s probably why his eyes weren brown. Ford sighed and drank the last of his soda. He wasn’t even sure why he came anymore, other than to avoid Bill’s pestering. He wasn’t going to get any information out of Rick, and he wasn’t here to drink. It was time to leave.

“Hey where, where, where’re you going? You just got here.”

“There’s nothing for me to do here, so I’m just going to go back to my dorm.”

“Come on, there’s plenty of things to do here.”

“Like what?”

Rick grabbed Ford’s shoulder and spun the nerd around. In the odd backlight, Ford noticed Rick’s face was lined with wrinkles that made him look older than he probably was. Unless Rick was secretly an old man that hung out in a hidden room selling Space Drugs(™) to college students. The possibility existed. 

“Why experiment on my Space Drugs(™) when you can experiment like this?”

“How did you know I was-”

And then Rick kissed Ford. It was the most tender kiss Ford ever had. Ok, so it was the only kiss Ford ever had. But it was nice, despite the fact it tasted of booze and chemicals from the perfume Rick had drunk earlier. Ford felt Rick’s arms wrap around him, and Ford nearly did the same. But he was pushed away suddenly. Somewhat dazed, he didn’t realize what was happening until he heard retching. Rick was hunched over the railing, puking his guts out onto the front porch. There were screams and some unfortunate partygoers suddenly got doused with Rick’s insides. Ford wrinkled his nose in disgust. Someone started yelling so Ford quickly retreated out of any possible field of vision from the people on the porch. Rick began yelling back at the poor sap who got puked on. Ford pinched the bridge of his nose. It was really time to leave. The only thing that stopped Ford for leaving, or trying to leave, was the voice of Bill crying out.

“RIIIIICK,” Bill yelled from the inflatable pool. “They took my cane! Take me home!”

“I’m on my way, baby!” Rick yelled back.

Ford froze. Maybe people would blow it off as Rick being drunk, but if they thought Bill and Rick were gay, couldn’t they get hurt? Rick, as usual, obviously didn’t care. He grabbed Ford and nearly dragged him down the stairs and out to the kiddie pool. Bill held his arms out and without pause Rick hugged Bill and pulled him up. Ford rushed to help so that people would not witness Rick and Bill for very long.

“You guys are the best,” Bill rolled his head. “Fucked up the ol’ war wound wrestling with wenches.”

Bill sniggered at his own tongue twister. 

“Where are your clothes, Bill?” Ford asked. It was very hard to ignore Bill’s body, and its gifts, when it was almost completely naked. 

Bill paused to think about it. “Away,” he giggled.

“Well, you can borrow my pants. Sixer, give him your sweater,” Rick all too easily kicked off his pants. “Where do you live, Bill?”

“Also away,” Bill burst out laughing.

“Bill, stop! We don’t know where your inhaler is, you could literally die laughing right now!” Ford took the brunt of Bill’s weight as Rick collected his trousers.”

“Relax,” Rick pulled his pants up Bill’s legs and thumped Bill on the chest. “Bastard ain’t gonna die that easily.”

“You really shouldn’t do that to an asthmatic,” Ford passed Bill’s body to Rick. 

“It works, doesn’t it,” Rick held Bill’s arms up as Ford put the sweater on the inebriate. 

“We gotta get him inside so he can sober up and tell us where he lives.”

Rick grunted and started dragging Bill inside the house. Ford picked up Bill’s feet and they carried him into the basement. It was so crowded, a sea of drunken college students. There was a spot on the edge of a green and white striped couch onto which Rick plopped Bill. Ford carefully set down Bill’s feet. Rick and Bill were having a pop of the red pills Rick had earlier. They offered one to Ford, who absentmindedly put it in his mouth. He looked around and saw people in groups of two or three or four each having their own conversation. He remembered what Rick said about privacy at big parties. Now, he wasn’t eavesdropping, but listening to the din of the noise, Ford heard bits and pieces of others’ conversations. One of them included the phrase “something something police”, to which the reply was a confident exclamation, “Fuck Da Police!” This exclamation became popular with the other groups, until everyone in the basement had begun to chant “fuck the police!” in unison. Feeling carefree, Ford joined in with the chanting.

As so it happened, the police had arrived. They had been called multiple times with complaints of noise and public drunkenness. When the party had realized this, there was a smashing of glass and someone yelled “Scatter!” Everyone screamed and ran in separate directions. Ford panicked.

“What do we do!?” He yelled at Rick.

Rick pushed Ford. “RUN!”

Ford didn’t have to be told twice. He ran in the direction Rick had pushed him. In the swarm, Ford managed to sneak past officers, up a second staircase and out of the house. Outside he had no idea which way to go, but he thought back streets would have him less likely to be caught than the open roads. He saw an alleyway, but it was blocked off by a fence. As he ran towards it, Ford thought, “That is the biggest fence I have ever seen,” and then Ford woke up in his dorm room.


	5. Ford Masturbates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford masturbates. That's it. That's the whole chapter.

Ford woke up horny as hell and hungover as shit. The hangover he could understand; he had drunk that horrendous soda, vodka, and tequila cocktail Rick had mixed him. The horniness was a bit of a mystery. He tried to recall what had happened the night before, but Rick called the cocktail “Hard Reboot” for a reason. Ford could only remember snippets of the party. The clearest memory was the kiss with Rick. Ford blushed, and he could feel his stomach churn in arousal. It was a very nice kiss, but it left Ford feeling very confused and very guilty. Rick was… a character, to put it nicely. And he was dating someone else already, Ford’s friend Bill. What did it mean when your friend’s boyfriend kisses you? And what did it mean when you actually enjoyed the kiss?

Ford sat up on his bed. It never occurred to him he would be a homosexual. He didn’t exactly consider himself a heterosexual either. He had the occasional interest in women, but he preferred to focus on his studies than pursue romantic relationships. He’d never consider men before, but he supposed last night changed things.

Well, being a homosexual wasn’t a sin, despite what the general population seemed to think. Ford didn’t feel as if his new revelation about his sexuality would cause a drastic change in his lifestyle; he didn’t need to broadcast it. This wasn’t something to agonize about. The only problem was Rick. And Bill. Rick was unattainable. Bill was his boyfriend. Bill was Ford’s friend. As a friend, telling Bill would have been the right thing to do. But Ford didn’t want to be the one to tell Bill the bad news. He was implicit in the act, given he didn’t exactly try to stop Rick. 

Ford closed his eyes. His mind kept coming back to that kiss. Rick was a surprisingly good kisser for someone with such sloppy behaviors. The way he had held Ford felt so intimate. Ford let his mind wander, playing out scenarios where Rick had continued kissing Ford and not thrown up over the deck railing. Ford imagined out would be longer, and Rick would have hugged him closer. 

Ford shook his head. That was the hormones talking, a surplus of testosterone in his bloodstream. But the idea was attractive to him. He imagined RIck kissing him sober, or at least, less drunk. They were no longer on the deck, but in a private room. The lights were off and the sheets were hypoallergenic. Rick was playing with Ford’s hair.

Ford opened his eyes. Was he really fantasizing about this? Didn’t he have work to do? He glanced at the screaming head clock: it was past eleven. Ford groaned and rolled off his bed. He stood up, but was hit by a bout of dizziness and nausea. He fell back onto his bed, breathing heavily until he was sure the desire to vomit had gone away. Well, he wasn’t going to get any work done hungover. It seemed like it would be a day to stay in bed.

He had at least to get out of last night’s clothes. He summoned whatever strength he had left to get up and lock his door and pull down the shades before undressing. He kicked the clothes towards the pile of laundry in the corner, turned off the light, and curled up under his sheets. Eyes closed once again, his fantasy with Rick played out.

It was simple, Ford and Rick were making out on a bed. One hand of Rick’s was tangled in Ford’s hair while the other hand was intertwined with Ford’s fingers. Then Rick cupped Ford's face in his hands and kissed Ford even deeper. Rick's hands were rough and callous, but still held Ford gently. The fantastical Rick peppered butterfly kisses all over Ford's face: on the neck, behind the ears, between Ford's eyes. Ford pulled Rick closer and they toppled over on the bed. Rick lay with his chest to Ford's, his eyes gazing into Ford's eyes.

Ford felt his physical body warming. His stomach twisted. He was becoming very aware of how horny he was. Reaching between his legs, Ford let his fantasy continue.

The imaginary Rick sat up briefly to remove his shirt. Ford's projection of himself awkwardly shuffled out of a turtleneck and t shirt. Rick laid back down on top of Ford, matching their chests so Ford could feel Rick's heart beating in time with his own. Rick kissed Ford again, with desire and hunger that hadn't been present previously.

Ford wasn't sure who started grinding first (most likely Rick) but as long as it felt good, it didn't matter. Rick paused long enough to pull off his pants and Ford's before continuing to rub his hard cock against Ford's. As he put a pillow between his legs to grind against, Ford's imaginary self placed his hands on Rick's waist and pushed him down to elicit more friction from their illicit activities. Ford whimpered as the friction against the pillow became too much for him to concentrate. The fantasy muddled, and Ford concentrated more on how good it felt to be fucking a pillow. He was close, so he rolled over and placed his cock between his bedsheets and his pillow. The added weight of his own body on his dick as he thrusted into the pillow drove him crazy. The orgasm was as intense as a thousand suns. Ford sobbed as pleasure racked through his body, leaving him weak and limp. He didn’t hear himself moan Rick’s name.

Ford collapsed onto his bed, panting and sweaty. He’d really done it this time. Jacking off your friend’s boyfriend was probably a cardinal sin. He’d have to tell Bill, but it’s not exactly casual conversation to say “oh your boyfriend kissed me and then the next day i masturbated to the fantasy of him kissing me more”. Ford had rarely seen Bill angry, but he didn’t need to see angry Bill more than once. Things weren’t pretty; people’s feelings either got very hurt or people nearly ended up dead. Ford preferred to be neither of those. He had to talk to Rick first, to truly assess the situation. It’s possible that Rick was just drunk. Well, obviously he was drunk, but he could have simply kissed Ford just because of the impaired judgement caused by intoxication. If that were the case, he would need to talk to Rick as soon as possible to clarify any misunderstandings. 

Ford got up, very slowly, leaving the mess he made to stain his bedclothes, possibly forever. Now that his fun was over, he had a massive headache and he didn’t feel like cleaning the bed or himself up. He briefly considered simply putting on a trenchcoat and walking to Rick’s like that, but he didn’t want Rick to get the wrong idea. So he put on whatever was clean and close and went on his way. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford finds himself at another party. Things starts to get wild. .

“You can’t be here for more drugs,” Rick said when he opened the door to Ford.

“No, I’m not here for more drugs,” Ford groaned. “Do you have any water? I forgot to get some on my way here and I’m very dehydrated right now.”

“Water? Nah, man, fish fuck in it. Have this,” Rick gave Ford a brown bottle.

“More beer is the last thing I need right now.”

Rick shrugged. “Alright, stay dehydrated.”

“Rick, listen, I need to have a serious conversation with you,” Ford paused for Rick to reply. He continued when Rick stayed silent. “We kissed last night.”

“And you thought we’d be together forever,” Rick smirked. “But we’re not.”

“Rick! This is not about you and me. This is about you and Bill. He could have seen us on the deck.”

“He was busy rubbing his dick on some girl. If we don’t tell him, he won’t find out.”

Ford glared at Rick. He couldn’t see what Bill saw in him. Then again, could Ford really talk after rubbing one out thinking about Rick? Before Ford left, he had just one last question to ask Rick.

“Did Bill make it home ok?”

Rick ran his hand through his hair. “Dunno, dragged his ass back to my place when the cops showed up, but when I woke up son of a bitch was gone.”

Ford rolled his eyes. Well, that was helpful. He turned around and left the room without saying goodbye. 

Ford was in desperate need of water, so he stopped by the cafeteria to buy a bottle from a vending machine. His heart sank when he heard a familiar laugh.

“Well, well, well-well, wellwellwellwellwell!” Bill slapped Ford on the back. “Stanford Filbrick Pines, my old friend!”

“Bill, I-”

“I didn’t think you had it in you,” Bill leered.

“Bill, please, I-”

Bill did an impression of Ford’s voice. “Fuck da police! Fuck da police!”

Fear ran through Ford, an immediate response. Did Bill really have to do that where he could be heard? Then irritation, did he have to mock Ford behaving stupidly drunk. Then relief, Bill didn’t know about the kiss. Not yet.

“Bill, I have an headache,” Ford shook the bottle of water to emphasis his point. “How do  _ you _ not?”

Bill thumped his chest. “No weaknesses, Sixer!”

Ford took a sip of his water. Maybe one day Bill would tell the truth about his apparent invincibility, but Ford didn’t see it coming any time soon.

“But, you know, a double dose of Tiny Sunshine would probably set  _ you _ straight, Sixxie.”

“I don’t- I don’t even know what that is.”

“Little yellow Space Drug(™).”

Ford groaned. Not more drugs. “So that what it does? Makes you sober?”

“It ups.”

Ford looked at Bill confused.

“Alcohol downs, Tiny Sunshine ups. Gotta balance it out.”

That was good information to know, but Ford decided he was going to stick with the old fashioned version of nursing a hangover. He noticed Bill had a new cane in his hand. 

‘Did you get home ok?”

“Awwww, do you care about me?”

Ford was caught off guard by the question. “Of course I do Bill.” 

Bill gave a small laugh and pinched Ford’s cheek. Ford drank another sip of water to hide his frown. He cared about Bill, and he didn’t want Bill getting hurt or upset. So maybe, just maybe, it was better to keep the kiss a secret. For now.

__

 

Whenever he was distressed, Ford could always count on his studies to get his mind off things. He threw himself into his research, working long hours and avoiding Rick. The only reminder Ford had that Rick existed were the Blue Sting pills he took with increasing frequency to finish whatever thesis statement or lab report was due the next day. Life was fine; in fact, life was great! He was actually have good clean fun and making new friends. He met a mathematics and computer science major named Fiddleford McGucket. Fiddleford too was interested in investigating mysteries, but only as a hobby. His real passion was building computers, but Ford could forgive that. Occasionally Bill would pester Ford for a party here and there, but Ford knew enough of Bill's tactics to navigate his way into saying no. Except this one time. Bill had cornered him during a Blue String crash and Ford's head had been too muddled up to correctly register what Bill was saying to him before he knew he was being dragged to someone's party bearing house. Almost upon arrival, Ford and Bill got separated, so Ford grabbed a soda and huddled in a dark corner waiting for things to calm down.

"Hey there stranger, long time no see."

"Hello, Rick," Ford made a point to not make eye contact.

"Aw, don't be like that," Rick cooed. "I'm only saying hi."

"Rick, I am very tired and I am in no mood to talk to you."

Rick arched an eyebrow. "That supply treating you well?"

"I'm almost out of Blue Sting. And I'm crashing from it now, so if you don't mind," Ford turned to walk away, but Rick's arm blocked his path.

"Man, that's what you take Tiny Sunshine for," Rick presented his palm to Ford, which contained four yellow pills.

"I'm not going to take those. I don't know what they do."

"Tsk, your experiments ain't told you nothing? It ups, man. You going down from the Sting, you gotta up."

"My experiments only tell me what's in the drugs, not that tells me much either. I'm not about to put things into my body if I don't know the consequences."

"You took Red Velvet the other night."

"No I didn't."

"Come on man, little red pill?" Rick produced a singular red pill from the same hand holding Tiny Sunshine like a magic trick.

Ford did not remember that. "What does it do?"

"Makes you feel good. Get all hot and bothered," Rick made a lewd thrusting motion with his hips. "Fireworks, motherfucker."

"Is that why I-" but Ford caught himself, and cleared his throat.

Rick sniggered. "You got a wet dream? Was I in it?"

Ford's face turned completely red. A wet dream probably would have been better. But the fact that a pill facilitated his fantasy made Ford feel less guilty. And he could just shift the blame onto Rick if Bill ever found out about it. After all, it was Rick who initiated the kiss.

"What's it gonna be, Sixer man? You in the market for a good time?" Rick now had a pill of different color on the tip of his outstretched fingers.  Ford had the feeling he wouldn’t be allowed to leave unless he plunged down this rabbit hole. He deliberated between the red pill and the yellow pill. The other pills Ford preemptively decided he would not be trying. He had already had “Red Velvet” and it seemed mostly harmless. However, Rick claimed the yellow one would get him out of his crash. Still, “upping” could mean anything in the mouth of Rick, so Ford picked the little red pill. 

“Can I go now?” Ford did not appreciate Rick’s growing grin. 

“Sure why not?” Rick swallowed the rest of the pills. “You’ll be back.”

Ford didn’t appreciate that comment either, but at least Rick left. Alone, Ford sipped his soda and looked for another corner to avoid talking to people in.  This party seemed less chaotic than the last one. Less people, for one, and more organized. The food came from catering companies and there was live entertainment in the living room. Ford wasn’t a big fan of ska, but the people who were seemed to be having a good time. Ford leaned against the wall and nodded to the beat. A beautiful woman approached him. Why couldn’t they have done that in high school?

“Hello,” she had a breathy voice and a British accent. “What’s your name, stranger?”

“F-f-ford. Stanford Pines,” Ford stuttered.

“I’m Jordan,” she purred. “Don’t you just love big parties like this? Everyone wrapped up in their own conversation, they never notice you listening on them.”

Ford felt there was something very ironic about this conversation, but he couldn’t remember why.

“There was a girl I passed by earlier telling her boyfriend, or some dude-I don’t know, how much she was into having her ass eaten out like it was her pussy!” Jordan laughed. “Isn’t that wild!?”

Ford nodded. The effects of Red Velvet were starting to kick in. He had planned to just wallow in horniness until he could leave the party, but he might have to switch tactics if this conversation was going to be entirely about sexual acts.  

“You know what’s really sexy though?” Jordan took a step forward. “When a girl makes a guy get a boner in public.”

Ford reflexively took a step back. Then it occurred to him that Jordan might be flirting with him. Ford looked her over. She was pretty with tan skin, rosy cheeks, and tousled hair. She smiled as she took another step. Ford noted her teeth looked healthy.   Her hips weren’t very wide; her children would come out small, but it’s not like either of them were looking to make a baby tonight. Ford took a gulp of his soda. One night stands is what people did at parties, right? 

Jordan pressed her body up against Ford’s.  “So what’s sexy to you?”

Oh god, he had no idea what to say. “P-pretty girls?”

Jordan had a laugh like a bell. “I think I can find out,” she placed her hand on Ford’s crotch. 

“HEYYOOOOOO!!!”

Ford jumped. Leave it to Rick to ruin a moment.

“Sixer, sixer, we gotta go. I gotta show you something,” Rick slapped his arm around Ford’s shoulder.

“What!? What is it?”

Rick belched loudly. “NEWWWWW!!!! SPACE DRUGS!!!” He burped again, and then whispered, “trademark.”

“What!?”

“Come on!”

Rick yanked Ford’s arm and dragged him up three flights of stairs. After a lot of yelling and cursing, Rick pushed Ford into a room that looked like someone’s study.

“What was that about, Rick! I could have had sex with that girl!” Ford complained.

“Pffsshh, yeah, right,” Rick rolled his eyes as he locked the door. “Lemme tell you, girl like that?  _ Puffy vagina!” _

Ford knitted his brow. “Well, what’s wrong with that?”

Rick groaned and went behind the desk to pull a cardboard box out of the drawer. A million questions ran through Ford’s head. Did Rick make the drugs on site? Were they delivered to him? Did aliens come down and give Rick the compounds? Ford was furious he had possibly missed the chance to see extraterrestrial life. 

Rick’s box contained hundred of unpackaged pills. It was filled to the brim with tiny light green circle tablets. Rick pulled out a fistfull.

“Rick, I already told you I’m not taking drugs I don’t know,” Ford sighed. 

Rick tossed a pill into his mouth and grabbed Ford’s jaw. He kissed Ford and pushed the pill and a mouthful of booze into Ford’s mouth. Ford pulled back coughing and sputtering, but had already swallowed the bill.

“What the hell was that!?”

Rick held up a plastic bag rubber banded around a yellow plastic straw. “Punch, lemon juice, vodka, tequila….salt.”

“I meant  _ the pill _ .”

Rick shrugged. “Let’s find out.”

Ford groaned and sunk into a chair. Why couldn’t Rick understand the dangers of swallowing unknown pills? Mixed with the Red Velvet pill, Ford had no idea what that green pill could do. Speaking of, Ford was really beginning to regret choosing that over Tiny Sunshine. He pulled the hem of his sweater over his crotch to hide his erection and put the soda can on his lap for good measure. Hopefully Rick wouldn’t notice.

“Heh, check it out,” Rick pulled an encyclopedia from the study room’s shelves. “Fake books. Oh shit, they open.”

Rick pulled out a stack of dollar bills from the fake encyclopedia. “Jackpot!” he pocketed the money.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” Ford jumped up.

Rick sniggered. “You happy to see me or the money?”

Ford felt like his entire body went red as he pulled the hem of sweater over his now unhideable erection. 

“You got a big one on you, Six. I’m gonna suck it.”

“No! What about Bill?”

Rick staggered over to where Ford was. “Door’s locked. It’s not like he’s gonna know. Now siddown.”

“Rick, this is a bad idea.”

“Like you don’t want it.”

Ford bit his lip. Yes, getting oral did sound pretty good, but at the same time. At the same time….Ford couldn’t think of anything. His mind felt fuzzy. There was something about Bill, but the door was locked, like Rick said. Nobody would have to know. 

“You’ll keep this a secret, right?”

Rick rolled his eyes and set himself to unbuckling Ford’s pants. Ford couldn’t help but wish Rick has kissed him first. A proper kiss, not that booze and pill pass from earlier.  Just something to make this whole ordeal seem like it wasn’t entirely about getting off. 

Still, Rick was really good at giving head. Maybe he read  _ Cosmo. _ Rick started by focusing his attention at the base, occasionally licking the underside of Ford’s cock. Once Ford started squirming, Rick pursed his lips on the tip and teased it with gentle sucks. It took some begging from Ford to convince Rick to take the whole thing into his mouth. Careful not to gag, Rick let Ford’s cock tickled the back of his mouth. He opened and closed his throat on the tip in a meticulous rhythm while he sloppily tickled the shaft with the tip his tongue. 

Ford was biting his lips to keep his moans quiet, but he would be more successful at biting right through them than keeping it down at this rate. Keeping still was proving difficult as well. Ford’s hands gripped the armrests of the chair, but nothing could keep his hips in place. He didn’t want to thrust too hard and make Rick gag, but primal instinct was hard to overcome when your intellect had be softly erased by unmarked Space Drugs™. Ford was on the brink of orgasm, but he realized he hadn’t asked Rick if it was ok to come in his mouth. 

“Rick, I- I’m going to…” Ford moaned. 

Rick took Ford’s dick out of his mouth to reply, but Ford had overestimated how long he could hold himself back. Ford orgasm’s washed over as if a thousand gallons of water had been poured on him. Rick was caught of guard as semen splattered all over his face. He jerked back as his eye was coated with the stuff.

“NOT AGAIN!!!” Rick screamed, slapping his hand to his face. 

“Oh my god! Are you ok!?”

Rick rolled on the floor. “You and Bill both are gonna make me go blind.”

“I’m sorry!!” Ford bent over to help Rick up.

Rick slapped Ford’s hand away. He sat up and wiped the spunk off his face with his shirt. Keeping the offending eye closed, Rick grabbed the plastic bag full of cocktail and sucked it dry. After a belch and a string of curses, Rick stood up and walked out of the study. Worried, Ford fixed his pants and followed. He found Rick in a bathroom, rinsing out the eye that had suffered Ford’s ejaculate. 

“Rick, I am so sorry,” Ford began.

“Shut up,” Rick growled. “Shut. Shut the fuck up. This ain’t the first time I’ve had junk in my eye. Bill practically does it on purpose.”

Ford’s stomach plunged at the mention of Bill. “I’m a terrible friend,” Ford moaned.

“He’ll get over it,” Rick dabbed his eye with a wad of toilet paper.

Ford stared at the ceiling. This was going too far. 

“We have to tell Bill,” Ford told Rick. 

“No we don’t,” Rick sat on the toilet. “Nobody needs to know.”

“But we know!” Ford yelled. 

“Yeah, and we’re going to keep our fucking mouths shut!” Rick yelled back. 

Ford slumped against the bathroom door. Staying at this party was a mistake. He needed to leave. He needed to leave this whole life behind, the whole drugs and sex scene. He figured Rick wasn’t the type for formalities, so he left the bathroom without saying goodbye. Making his way through the throng of the party people, Ford tried to find Bill to confess the situation. He found BIll in the kitchen, with people taking shots off his body. 

“Sixer!! How’s it goinnnnnnnn’?” Bill made a gesture and someone helped him up and handed him his cane.

Bill drunkenly hobbled to Ford. “Why the long face?”

Ford frowned. Bill was in a really good mood. Ford didn’t want to kill it by telling about what he’d been doing with Rick. Bill was drunk anyways, and probably wouldn’t remember. 

“I’m not feeling very well, Bill. I think I’m going to home,” Ford fibbed. 

Bill grinned. “Allllllllllrighty-oooooohhhh!! Get home safe, Sixer!”

Bill hugged Ford very tightly. Ford hugged Bill back, but it felt very empty. He left the party feeling almost worse than the day he had abandoned Stanley.


	7. No Refunds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford tries to go clean but ends up sucking a dick.

Ford spent the next few weeks avoiding Rick and avoiding parties. Consequently, this also meant avoiding Bill. It was for the better, Ford told himself. He couldn't face his friend knowing what he'd done. Ford threw himself into himself into his friendship with Fiddleford. Fiddleford was the type of friend Ford needed. They could hang out without consuming substances. Stanford and Fiddleford worked together on projects,  peer reviewed each other's essays, and occasionally set up campaigns for Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons. Ford felt like his life was finally back on track. He was even cutting back on all nighters and Blue Sting.  Granted, there were a few instances where he succumbed to temptation, but they were infrequent. Ford almost felt proud of himself for his progress.

However, he could never bring himself to throw out the pills. He still had most of the ones Rick had given him. He'd only ever used the Blue Sting, and occasionally Tiny Sunshine to recover from any bad crashes. It had always seemed wasteful to him to toss the rest when they still filled their tupperware boxes. Maybe he could simply return them to Rick. They hadn't seen each other for a while. Maybe now Rick had found someone else to cheat with. Then whatever it was between him and Ford would be over and Ford would never have to tell Bill about it ever and everything would go back to normal.  Ford took the tupperware pill boxes from under his bed and stuffed them into his backpack. Filled with determination to put it all behind him, Ford made his way to Rick's room.

His determination wavered when Rick opened his door naked.

"What?" Rick said. "Gets hot in here."

Ford shook his head. "I wanted to return the drugs to you."

"You have to say the whole thing with the trademark."

"What? Oh, alright fine. I am returning the Space Drugs, trademark, to you."

Ford handed Rick his backpack. Ford wondered if it was possible to deal back to you own dealer.

"No refunds," Rick was not going to put any clothes on.

"I don't care. I just don't want them anymore. I don't need them."

"Sting's missing. Seems like you need that."

"Just take them!"

"Alright, jeez fine!" Rick took the pill filled boxes and set them on his desk.

There was a horribly awkward silence. Rick took out a blender from his closet and started pouring an assortment of drinks into it. Ford saw from the bottles' labels the mix was tequila, lime juice and something called Cointreau. Rick added salt and ice and pressed the button to blend the ingredients into a smoothie. Ford gaped when Rick forwent cups and drank directly from the blender's container.

"What?" Rick said when he noticed Ford staring. "Blade's at the bottom of the thing."

"You're really something else. Goodbye Rick," Ford turned to leave. "Oh, I suppose I should thank you."

"For what?"

"For, ah, taking care of me after I'd taken the Red Velvet pill."

Rick snorted. "You jizzed in my eye and didn't even suck me off after. You should be paying me back, not thanking me."

Ford's face burned. "I don't, I've can't, I've never done something like that."

"Time do something new. Two of these and you'll be ready," Rick held up the red pill box.

Ford glared at Rick.

"Hey, come on. I did you a favor, now you gotta do me a favor."

Ford groaned. "Fiiiine, finefinefine fine fine. I do this for you and then we're even. And then we never have to see each other again. "

"Tsk, whatever. Close the door."

Ford closed the door and locked it for good measure. He plunged his hand into the red pills and tossed two in his mouth. Not wanting to dry swallow the pills, Ford took a gulp of the margarita smoothie.

"That was vile," Ford coughed. "How do you drink this stuff?"

"Years of practice," Rick tossed a handful of Red Velvet into his mouth and finished off the rest of the smoothie.

Rick tossed Ford a condom and laid back on his bed.

"Bacon and eggs?" Ford read the label.

"Must be one a Bill's."

That did not surprise Ford at all. He looked at the condom wrapper again and carefully read the instructions. Pinch and roll, that seemed easy enough.

"Um, before we begin, could we kiss a little?"

Rick sat up up and looked at Ford incredulously. "You wanna make out?" He smirked.

Ford couldn't tell if the thumping in his chest was from embarrassment or from the double dose of what was essentially red viagra. He nodded abashedly.

Rick snorted softly. He curled his finger, the type of gesture that communicated "come here", and patted the bed. Ford shuffled to the spot and sat down gingerly. Rick took the condom from Ford's hand and put it in the pocket of Ford's jacket. He cupped Ford's face and kissed him hungrily. Rick was the type of kisser who use tongue and Ford did not know what to do with that. He opened his mouth when prompted, but the sliminess of a foreign tongue did not help set the mood nor did Rick's margarita flavored breath. Rick took Ford's hand and for a minute Ford thought his fantasy was going to happen in real time. However, Ford was disappointed when Rick put Ford's hand on his cock.

"Rick, I..."

"It's just like jacking off," Rick mumbled into Ford's lips. "I'll show you."

Rick unbuckled Ford's pants and reached in. He pulled out Ford's cock and gave it a soft squeeze before sliding his hand up and down the shaft. Ford closed his eyes and let out a long exhale. His trembling fingers reached for Rick's dick and did their best to imitate Rick's movements. Ford kissed Rick again, softly. Rick kissed back with fervor. It was getting really hot in the room. Rick tugged at Ford's clothes and Ford lifted his arms to have his jacket, turtleneck and shirt pulled off. Ford suddenly became very aware of his pudgy physique and pale complexion sitting next to Rick's lean tanness.

"Ok, I'm hard now," Rick pulled away. "Hurry up and suck me off."

Ever the romantic. Ford settled between Rick’s legs and rolled the condom onto Rick’s erection. Tentatively, he licked the tip. Now,  _ that _ was vile. This did not taste like bacon and eggs. It tasted more like tofurkey bacon and egg substitute. Ford grimaced. Rick told him not to pussy out. Ford sighed and took the tip of Rick’s erection into his mouth. The shoddy flavored faded away after a few sucks and Ford slowly ventured further down Rick’s dick. Rick leaned his head back and moaned softly. Encouraged, and feeling daring, Ford pushed his hand against Rick’s. Rick immediately pulled his hand away, his attention hyperfocused on Ford. Ford glanced at Rick, saw the look on his face, and looked away. Gears whirred in Rick’s head until pieces fell into place. With one hand, Rick took Ford’s and intertwined their fingers. With the other hand, Rick ran his fingers through Ford’s hair. Ford looked up at Rick and saw Rick understood what Ford wanted out of this. Ford closed his eyes. Comforted, Ford sucked his first dick with a little more confidence. 

It wasn’t over quickly, but it was over soon enough. Rick yelled when he orgasmed, and Ford was very glad there was a condom to protect him from getting anything nasty in  _ his  _ eye. He still had his own erection to tend to. He didn’t want to ask Rick for any more favors, so he took care of it himself. 

“Was that ok?” Ford asked. 

“You’ll get better,” Rick replied.

Ford frowned, somewhat insulted. “But we’re even now.”

Rick made a vague noise but it sounded like agreement. "We have to stop doing this," Ford said softly.

"Now's not the time to tell me you're married," Rick pulled off the condom and tossed it in a wastebasket.

"We can't keep doing this to Bill! I can't take living with the guilt!"

"Bill, Bill, Bill," Rick mocked Ford's voice. "What, are you, in love with the guy? You're sucking off the wrong dude."

Ford looked up. "Aren't you in love with him?"

"Psh," Rick shrugged. "We're cool."

This was not a reassuring conversation.  Ford gathered his clothes and stood up. Rick pushed the tupperware box again. Ford glared at Rick. 

Rick rolled his eyes. “It’s to  _ reduce stress _ . Since you’re always freaking out about Bill.”

Ford deliberated and wavered and conceded. He took the box. It was to reduce stress. And classes stressed him out. That's why he was taking the box. No other reason.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Man, get the fuck out of my room."

Ford did not need to be told twice.


	8. And Then They Dicked, Part 2

Ford realized soon enough he wasn’t going to break his habits. He took Still Life daily in the morning, to avoid the stress of guilt he felt. He took Blue Sting at night to work on essays and reports and projects. Whenever he crashed, he took Tiny Sunshine, maybe even a double dose. And occasionally, he would take Red Velvet, just for a better orgasm when he masturbated. All Ford’s efforts to go clean  were fruitless. He knew if he really wanted to set himself straight, he would have to look to outside help, but he was too embarrassed to admit he even let this happen to himself. Life became out of focus. He counted his days by the hours, by which pills he took at what time. The weeks were a chain of sensations that had lost any meaning to Ford. The routine he took comfort in began to bore him. 

Ford wandered around campus looking for something to break him out of his daze. He didn’t need anything particularly dangerous, like bungee jumping or cocaine, but something. Maybe just exploring the hallway of the buildings, Ford would find an event flyer for a meetup or conference, or if he was desperate enough, another party. He noted he was in the building that contained Rick’s hideout. Ford wondered if sex with Rick would be enough of a cheap thrill to shake him out of his fog. Well, it would be something. 

Rick didn’t look at all surprised to see him. At least he had clothes on this time. The floor of his room was littered with cardboard boxes and packaging styrofoam. 

“Are you moving?” Ford tried not to step on anything.

“I’m expanding my business venture,” Rick pointed to a clear plastic cabinet in which each drawer must have contained thousands of Space Drugs(™). “Want anything?”

Ford could simply stare at the drugs in awe. He hadn’t realized his jaw had dropped until Rick closed it for him. 

“Well, I was wondering if, um, we could….” Ford realized he didn’t know how to actually word this. 

“Spit it out, Sixer.”

“Can we make out again?”

It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but the last time they made out it led to Ford giving a blowjob. 

“Is that going to be our codeword? Because that’s lame. How about I ‘refill your prescription’?” 

Ford chuckled. “That was pretty good.”

“So what you wanna do? Gonna stick it in my ass?”

Ford’s heart skipped a beat. “I was thinking, maybe we could just start with making out.”

“Well, that’s no fun,” but Rick kissed him anyways.

Ford noticed Rick’s kiss was softer than the last time. There was less tongue this time around, and Rick had gotten to gently tangling his fingers in Ford’s hair. Rick pushed Ford back as he peppered Ford’s face with butterfly kisses. It was just like Ford’s fantasy, except he was pressed against a wall instead of sitting on a bed. 

It was Ford who started grinding first, and Rick did not complain. He moaned softly into Ford’s mouth and Ford tentatively slid his tongue across Rick’s parted lips. Rick giggled.

“You been studying up on how to suck face?”

Ford shut him up with another kiss. He wrapped his arms around but forced him to place his hands on Rick’s ass. Rick firmly grabbed Ford’s butt and pressed their pelvises together. Ford shivered when he felt Rick’s arousal against his own. 

“Heh,” Rick panted. “Well, we’ve both got wood. How bout start a fire?”

Ford groaned. “You’re ruining the moment.”

Rick sniggered as he undid Ford’s pants. Ford blushed when his erection sprang up, eager for attention. At least Rick’s face wasn’t close to it this time. Rick tugged at Ford’s sweater, but Ford stopped him. He just wasn’t ready to be completely nude around other people. Rick let the sweater go and undid his own pants. Ford couldn’t help but compare sizes: Rick was bigger. Ford was a little miffed, but he consoled himself that Rick was taller, so the ratio was about the same. 

Rick pressed his body against Ford’s. He squeezed their cocks together and slowly stroked, but his hands were rough and dry. Rick hissed and pulled away. He looked around his room. What was there to use as lube? He knew from experience booze was a bad idea. He spotted a bottle of baby oil at the leg of his desk. Rick didn’t even know how that got there, or what he could have been using it for, but it had a new use now.

The oil wasn’t cold, but Ford shivered when he felt it. Rick had an expert hand; Ford couldn’t stop letting out increasingly louder moans. Making out became panting into each other’s mouths. Ford wrapped his leg around Rick’s and hugged Rick closer. He begged Rick to keep going as he found himself closer and closer to orgasm.

“ _ Stanford… _ ” Rick moaned as he felt his release.

Hearing his name moaned out pushed Ford over the edge. He cried out as his climax ripped through him, leaving him a trembling mess in Rick’s arms.

“Rick, that was..” Ford panted.

“Fucking amazing,” Rick laughed.

Ford laughed. “Yes. Amazing.”

They put their foreheads together, laughing. After the initial waves of afterglow died down, Ford’s expression turned serious.

“Rick-”

“If you talk about Bill now, I swear to God.”

“No, I...you said my name.”

RIck looked puzzled. “I’ve said your name before.”

“No, uh, never mind.”

Ford looked down at the mess they made. “My sweater,” he whined.

The sweater was splattered in semen. Douglas fir green did not go with pearl white. Rick stepped away and examined the damage. 

“Yeah, that. That might be lost forever,” Rick said after inspection.

“This is my favorite sweater!” Ford complained. 

“Well, you can’t walk out in it.”

Ford hated it when Rick was right. He took off the sweater and folded it inside out.

“Just leave it,” Rick stretched. “I’ll wash it and give it back to you. Eventually.”

Ford knew it was an excuse to get him to come back, but he would take the bait anyways. He kissed Rick goodbye and went back to his dorm, heart thumping from adrenaline and infatuation. 


	9. The Halloween Threesome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill invites Ford to a Halloween movie marathon at Rick's. They have sex while watching Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are really starting to get Wild.

Ford felt good. He had sex with his best friend’s boyfriend and he didn’t feel bad. Then he got to his dorm and he remembered he took four different types of drugs a day and one of them was responsible for his carefree attitude at the moment. Panic gripped his heart with an icy grip. Oh god, Bill. What was he going to tell Bill? Could he even tell Bill anything? This was getting too big to keep a secret. Ford jumped when someone knocked at his door. After taking a few calming breaths, he fixed himself and opened the door.

"Well, well, well, well-well, "wellwellwellwellwellwellwellwellwellwellwell!"

Ford's heart plummeted into his stomach.

"Aren't you a sight for sore EYE?" Bill grinned maniacally. "Long time no see!"

"Bill!" Ford struggled for breath. "Yeah! Long time no see!"

"You've been cheating on me, Sixer!" Bill let himself into Ford's dorm room.

Ford could barely squeak out a "what?"

Bill spun around and pouted at Ford. "What's that Fiddlefudge got that I don't got?"

Ford nearly vomited from relief, something he hadn't thought was humanly possible. "Bill, I. I'm sorry. I didn't realize I had been spending so much time with Fiddleford."

"Well, I know how you can make it up to me. Got a pre-Halloween thing going on next week. You're gonna come."

Ford sighed. "Bill, I really can't go to another party."

"No, that's the best part. It's just gonna be me, you, and Rick!"

Him and Rick, Ford liked the sound of that. But Bill would be there. They obviously couldn’t do anything with Bill right there. Ford thought about it.

“Come on!” Bill continued. “It’s gonna be great. Drinks, snacks-”

Ford help up a hand. “Bill, please. No more alcohol. No more drugs. No more Space Drugs(™).”

“I meant regular drinks. Regular snacks. I’ve got a popcorn and M&Ms mix with pretzels in it.”

Bill looked really excited. Ford didn’t want to disappoint his friend. God, he was really bad at peer pressure.

“Alright, fine, I’ll go,” Ford sighed.

“Yayyyy!” Bill did little hops around Ford. “Rick’s place the day before Halloween. be there or I will literally turn you into a square.”

“Haha, ok, I promise I’ll be there,” Ford chuckled. “Now what do you say we grab a bite?”

“Oooh, Sixer, you sweep me off my feet.”

In the cafeteria, a question weighed on Ford.

“Bill, how do you feel about Rick?”

Bill stopped pouring maple syrup into his chicken noodle soup. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Ford’s stomach churned. “Do you love him?”

Bill was silent. Ford didn’t know if this was good or bad. The din of the cafeteria chatter was muffled by the blood pounding in his ears. 

“Mmm, well,” Bill stirred. “We never said the L word or anything like that but-”

Ford paled. 

Bill rested his chin in his hands and sighed. “He’s just soooooooooooo  _ dreamy _ !”

“R-really? What do you see in him?” Ford felt really clammy. 

“He’s super smart, and he knows how to party.”

“He makes you pay for drugs.” Ford struggled to keep his breathing even. 

“Space Drugs, trademark, and I can afford it.”

“But-”

“Stanford,” Bill furrowed his brow. “Don’t you like my boyfriend?”

That was the exact opposite of the problem. Ford liked Rick. He liked Rick too much. He had sex with Rick more than once and he didn’t have the heart to tell Bill. He could only imagine how that conversation would go.  _ He’s cheating on you! How do I know? Because I’m the one he’s cheating with. _ No way.

“He’s, ok, I guess,” Ford looked down on his plate. “Just doesn’t seem like your type.”

Bill reached over and patted Ford on the shoulder. “He’s a little rough around the edges, but you’ll warm up to him soon enough.”

Ford cracked a weak smile. It was already too late for that.

_____

 

When Ford checked his calendar, he realized the day before Halloween was the next day. He stared at the calendar, trying to figure out if Bill had simply invited him on the 29th or he just hadn’t checked his calendar in a long time since Bill had invited him. He was still measuring time by when he took whatever Space Drug(™) carefully upping and downing so he could be under any substance’s influence without suffering any consequences. If Bill really had really invited him on the 29th, then that left Ford no time to talk to Rick about what was going to happen at this little get together. Maybe if he arrived at Rick’s room early in the day, there would be time before Bill got there. Bill hadn’t specified when the “party” started, but Ford assumed it would start in the evening. He skipped the Blue Sting pill for the first time in weeks and allowed himself to sleep. The screaming head alarm clock was put to use after collecting dust on Ford’s night stand. Its wail woke Ford at nine thirty, allowing him to shower and eat breakfast before arriving at Rick’s at eleven. Bill was already there.

“Heya, Sixer!”

Ford felt as if his soul was leaving his body. He waved a tiny hello and stepped into the threshold of Rick’s quarters. The furniture had been rearranged. The desk was pushed against the closet door. The bed had been reoriented so it was set parallel to the desk. Between the desk and the bed was a party table pushed against the wall. Bill’s claim proved true: there was an assortment of snacks and drink, alcoholic and non alcoholic. On the desk sat a shiny television set attached to a VHS player. A stack of tapes leaned against the box. Bill hugged Ford in greeting, but Ford was too dazed to hug back. He caught Rick’s attention and mouthed for help, but Rick only smirked and took a swig from a bottle of tequila.

“Guess what we’re up to!” Bill didn’t wait for Ford to answer. “Movie marathon!”

Bill sauntered over to the desk and the tv. “Which one first?  _ The Producers, Something Funny Happened on the Way to the Forum, Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory?” _

“Are we having a Gene Wilder and or Zero Mostel theme?” Ford shrugged off his coat, which Rick took for him. Ford blushed and glanced at Bill, but Bill was focused on the tapes.

“We also have  _ Fiddler on the Roof” _ Bill picked up the cassette tape.

“Hey babe,” Rick folded Ford’s jacket over his arm. “What about  _ Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Sex (But Were Too Afraid to Ask) _ ?”

Ford hated that meaningful look Rick gave him. Bill cackled. He laughed so hard, he had to lean over the desk and produce his inhaler before he could speak again. With tears streaming from his eyes, Bill took the tape out of its box and inserted it into the VHS player. 

“Why was that movie even on the list?” Ford whispered as he took off his shoes.

“It has Gene Wilder in it,” Rick smirked.

Ford fumed. Rick was toying with him, and right in front of Bill. Maybe Rick liked being so blatantly sneaky, but Ford knew there was only one way this could end up. Either Ford or Rick would say something too unsubtle, and them Bill would catch on to them, and this room was too small of a space to explain to your friend you were fucking his boyfriend. 

Ford sat on the bed and Bill sat on Ford’s left. Ford had expected RIck to sit next to Bill, but RIck defied expectations mumbling something about not being able to see the screen properly. Ford looked directly ahead at the television screen but he was all too aware his and Rick’s knees were touching. Rick grabbed a large bowl from the party table and set it on Ford’s lap. The bowl was filled with popcorn, pretzels, and brightly colored candy. Bill’s party mix, Ford guessed.

“I didn’t put any Space Drugs, trademark, in it, so rest easy,” Rick grabbed a beer from a cooler under the party table. 

“It’s delicious, Sixer, please try it,” Bill leaned his head on Ford’s shoulder.

_This is what Hell feels like_ , Ford thought as he scooped the party mix into his mouth. _Sandwiched between Bill and Rick in a small room watching a terribly titled movie._ _God, have you forsaken me?_

The movie was a terrible as its title. It was a series of vignettes about sexual phenomena addressed with bad science. Rick and Bill started a drinking game. The rules were simply: every time Bill pointed out something wrong with the science used, take a drink. Bill drank gin and tonics, Rick took a pull off a bottle of Everclear. Ford participated, but with a bottle of orange pop. After two grueling hours, the movie was finally over.

“Well personally, I don’t think Gene Wilder deserved to be subjected to that,” Bill said as he stood up to change the tape.

“Hey, whatever, as long as he got paid right?” Rick finished the rest of his Everclear and stretched. 

“What are we watching next?” Ford looked at the bottles that had accumulated at the feet of the bed. 

“ _ Fiddler on the Roof! _ ” Bill pushed the tape into the player.

“That doesn’t have Gene Wilder or Zero Mostel in it,” Ford pushed the empty party mix bowl off his lap. “Is this because I’m Jewish?”

“Yes, it is,” Bill plopped down next to Ford.

“I hate you,” Ford shook his head.

Bill laughed and kissed Ford on the cheek. “You know you love me.”

Ford rolled his eyes. Rick suggested a new drinking game: drink for every song, including the music where there wasn’t any singing. Ford was very glad he was drinking soda, otherwise he probably would have died from alcohol poisoning halfway through. Bill was beginning to slur and droop his head. Rick, miracles of miracles, still seemed totally sober. Rick revealed his secret: six orange pills that Ford vaguely remembered were called Double Cream.

“Let’s you double up on the Irish Cream,” Rick explained.

Three song and dance filled hours went by. Bill was totally plastered was in no shape to get up, so Rick had to change the tape. Rick wobbled when he put in  _ Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory _ , but he still had a long night of drinking ahead of him. Ford really had to pee.

“Gotta go out for a bathroom,” Rick shoved some bottles into a corner with his foot. “Down the hall to your left. Second door on the right.”

Ford ran. He barely made it in time. After washing his hand thoroughly, Ford took his time returning to the room. Some fresh air was what he needed before returning to Rick’s tiny, inexplicable dorm located in the middle of what was apparently an abandoned science building. Ford suspected it truly was originally a janitor’s closet and Rick had repurposed it for reasons unknown. Perhaps an inconspicuous room was the perfect base of operations for a shady business, Ford wouldn’t know. He opened the door back into the makeshift movie theater and nearly staggered backwards from the rank, booze reeking hot air that rushed out. Ford shouldn’t have been surprised to see Rick and Bill making out on the bed, and he knew he had even less of a right to be upset Rick would kiss someone else. But did they have to be shirtless? Was it really necessary? 

“Close the door,” Rick mumbled, face still attached to Bill’s. “You’re letting in the cold.”

Ford did as he was told, and settled himself onto the edge of the bed. Bill pushed Rick away and told him to go start the tape. Rick pushed play on the player and reached behind the desk to pull out a towel. He wadded the towel up and stuck it to the bottom of the door. Bill leaned back and repositioned himself to lay his head on Ford’s lap. 

“Hiya, Sixxie,” Bill was really far gone now.

Rick sat on the other side of the bed with a bowl of punch in his lap. He was making another cocktail, and Ford watched as Rick poured four different bottles of drink into the punch. 

“Champagne, vodka, Don Julio, tequila,” Bill produced a cigarette from his pants pocket. “Now that sounds like a party.”

“Bill is that a cigarette,” Ford was alarmed. “You’re an asthmatic.”

“This is medicine, Sixer,” Bill lit up and blew a ring of smoke in Ford’s face. “And it smells good too.”

It was pungent and sweet and it made Ford feel sticky. “What on earth is it?”

“Mooooooore,” Bill took a puff. “Space Drugs(™)”

“Purple Raaaaiiinnnn,” Rick took the cigarette from Bill and took a puff. 

Ford waved the smoke away from his face and got up to go to the snack table. A glass pan held a batch of brownies. Ford picked one out and discovered it was made of layers of cookie crumble, caramel, fudge, and marshmallows. Immediately he put it in his mouth and picked up a second one. Augustus Floop drowned in a chocolate river in the background. Ford hummed along to the Oompa Loompa song. He looked into Rick’s cooler for another soda, but only found cider. Chewing on the second brownie, he decided a 5% alcohol content would not kill him. 

There was nowhere to sit on the bed and the floor had become too filthy with spilled drinks and dropped snack debris. Ford had to squeeze in next to Rick on the bed’s edge. Apparently this arrangement displease Bill, so he got up and forced Ford to sit on Rick’s other side in the middle of the bed once again. Then Bill draped his body across the men’s laps. Out of the corner of his eye, Ford could see Bill’s pants were unbuttoned and halfway unzipped. Bill did not appear to be wearing any underwear, nor did he seem to possess pubic hair. Ford wondered if Bill’s pubic hair would have been honey blonde like his hair or black like his eyebrows. The Ford berated himself internally for thinking about his friend’s pubic hair when he was supposed to be watching a children’s movie. 

Violet Beauregarde had been taken away to the juicing room, and Ford was beginning to feel...spacey. Maybe that cider had more effect on him than he thought. His depth perception of the room seemed to waver in and out of focus and sounds seemed garbled and mixed up. He laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. 

“I feel weird,” he announced. “Open the door, let some air in.”

“Don’t pussy out on your first hot box,” Rick took a final drag from Bill’s cigarette.

Bill hit Rick on the arm. “Do what the man says. We’re trying to make him comfortable.”

Rick grumbled and pushed Bill to the floor. He stepped over Bill’s body and pulled the towel from the door. Bill climbed back onto the bed and lied down next to Ford. Their eyes met and Ford suddenly became enraptured by the fractures and fissures in the amber of Bill’s glass eye. Then, Ford wasn’t sure of the next sequence of events, but he found he and Bill kissing.

“I can’t take my eyes off you for two seconds, can I?” Rick growled.

“Mmm, I should have known you’d come so soon,” Bill petted Ford’s cheek.

“I last longer with Ford,” Rick mumbled.

Bill stopped petting Ford. Ford was dead, he was so dead. He prayed to God for penance, to beg to not to be sent straight to Hell for all his transgressions. The room grew uncomfortable hot and silent, save for the noise coming from the television set. Veruca Salt had just fallen down a garbage chute.

After long, deliberating seconds, Bill sat up and said to Rick, “ _ Prove _ it.”

Rick smirked and pulled Ford into an upright position. Bill hopped off the bed and lifted himself onto the party table. He crossed his legs and placed his hands neatly on his knees. Ford’s blood chilled from the Bill’s icy look. 

“Eyes over here, Stanford,” Rick took Ford’s jaw and forced Ford to look at Rick.

Rick’s kiss was lustful, like the first time. Booze passed from Rick’s mouth of Ford, and Ford felt two or three pills in that mouthful. Ford had no choice but to swallow and he desperately hoped that was only Red Velvet. He pulled back for some air, but Rick was ravenous. Rick pushed Ford back onto the bed, kissing with lustful hunger. Ford closed his eyes and kissed back as Rick pulled down his pants. 

“Rick..” Ford whined when Rick tugged at his sweater.

“Hey, you wanna lose another sweater forever?”

Ford  _ hated _ it when Rick was right. He relented and let Rick pull off the sweater. In a very flashy gesture, he threw the sweater exactly so it would land on Bill’s head. Ford could have sworn his entire body went red. He felt very vulnerable, completely nude save his socks in front of one, but two people. And one of them was probably ready to murder him.  _ This is going to be the worst sex of my life _ , Ford thought, but then that Red Velvet hit. Ford felt himself melting under Rick’s kisses. Rick’s lips moved from Ford’s face down Ford’s chest. Ford squirmed and ran his fingers through Rick’s hair. Rick wasted no time getting to sucking Ford’s dick. Ford covered his mouth with his fist but couldn’t stop the moan from escaping his lips. 

“Oh, sure,” Bill complained. “You fit all of  _ his  _ dick in your mouth.”

Rick sat up. “He’s smaller than you are!”

Ford was ready to die. He rolled over towards the wall and curled up. 

“No, he’s not!” Bill spat.

“You want me to get a measuring tape out and prove it?” Rick spat back.

“The ratio-”

“FUCK THE RATIO!”

Ford covered his face. This was not happening. This could not be happening.  _ God in heaven, please strike me and deliver me from this hell. _

Rick growled and turned his attention to Ford. He grabbed Ford’s hips and forced Ford back on his back. Rick’s mouth was on Ford’s dick so quickly, Ford yelped and jerked his hips up. Rick recoiled, trying to keep his gag reflex down. Bill cackled but shut up when Rick gave him the bird. Rick carefully wrapped his lips around the tip of Ford’s cock and slowly worked his way down. Ford did his best to keep still, but Rick was making it very difficult. Rick had to hold Ford’s hips down to avoid getting hit in the uvula. He would lose if he puked during a beej again. 

Ford knew he shouldn’t have been enjoying this, but he was hopped up on Space Drugs(™) and was getting Rick Sanchez head. Bill was watching and he was going to die and burn in hell for this, but goddamn it felt so good. He didn’t hold back from moaning Rick’s name and begging for more, whatever more was. He was vaguely aware of Mike Teevee being shrunk down to a miniature size, but didn’t care. He could feel himself on the brink of orgasm.

“Hey. Sanchez,” Bill sniggered. “SANCHEZ!”

Rick took Ford’s dick out of his mouth. “WHAT!? OH,  _ JESUS _ !”

Rick jumped backwards off the bed as semen hit him in the eye, yes again. Bill laughed so hard he fell off the party table. 

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU, CIPHER!” Rick lunged blindly at where he thought Bill was, but hit his head instead on the edge of the party table.

“Well, that was ok, but you lose points for keeping Fordsy’s socks on,” Bill wheezed as he lifted himself onto the bed. “So I’m gonna show you how it’s done.”

Bill grinned at Ford. It was the really wide grin, with all the teeth and the too open eyes. Ford’s heart thumped in his throat.

“Bill, I-”

“Shut the hell up, Sixer,” Bill removed Ford’s socks. “Get ready for a Good Time(c).”

Bill grabbed his tie from the corner of the bed and tied it around Ford’s neck. Bill kissed Ford hard before plopping backwards onto the bed.

“Come here, Sixxie,” Bill waggled his eyebrows. 

Ford carefully adjusted himself so he was straddling Bill’s hips.

“No, no, no,” Bill pointed at his face. “Up here.”

Ford gaped.

“Come on. Turn around and back dat ass up.”

Ford turned around and crawled backwards until his ass hovered over Bill’s face. Bill grabbed Ford’s cheeks and squeezed. Ford yelped in surprise. Bill spread cheeks apart and playfully fingered the rim of Ford’s anus. Before Ford knew what was happening, he felt something wet and slimy tickle at his butthole. The sensation sent shivers up his spine. He jerked his hips upwards, but Bill kept him firmly in place. Slowly, Ford let himself relax. This was sex. Ok, yes it was weird, but could he have possibly expected anything else from Bill? Ford spread his legs a little wider so Bill could pull him down deeper. This was beginning to feel good. Ford leaned forward and bucked back against Bill’s face. Bill reached forward and pulled on the tie. Ford found his face very close to Bill’s crotch. He fumbled to unzip the rest of the zipper but managed. He jumped back when Bill’s cock popped out.

“You ok down there?” Bill asked.

“I’m fine,” Ford readjusted his lenses. “My glasses kept your penis from poking my eye out.

Bill cackled, “Hey Sanchez. Maybe you should get some protective eyewear for yourself.”

“Shut. Shut the fuck up,” Rick’s drunken reply came from somewhere below.

“Aye, IQ,” Bill lightly slapped Ford’s thigh. “Got a treat for you.”

“One second,” Ford cleared his throat. “Do you have a condom?”

“Pocket on your right.”

Ford pulled out the foil wrapper. “Birthday cake ice cream? Is that a different flavor than regular birthday cake?”

Bill impatiently slapped Ford’s thigh again. Ford quickly rolled the condom on and sucked on Bill’s tip. Bill moaned into Ford’s ass, and it felt  _ great _ . Ford moaned around Bill’s cock and tried to take more into his mouth. That didn’t work out too well the first time. Bill had a big dick. Ford had to come up for air, but Bill’s grip on the tie forced him to go down once more. Ford opened his mouth a little wider and managed to take more in. Slowly, he worked his way down till his lips touched the base.

“See, Sanchez? Ford can do it! And it’s like, what? His second time sucking dick?” Bill stopped just to specifically point this out.

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” It was clear Rick had lost this competition miserably.

Ford had no idea if he should be proud of his sexual abilities, but hearing Bill praising him felt nice. He tightened his lips around Bill’s cock. The moans he got sent vibrations right down the tip of his own dick. Ford reached under himself and stroked himself. Bill strengthened his grip by wrapping his hand in the tie and pulled Ford down more on his cock. Ford jerked back panting for breath, but Bill pulled him right back down. Bill kept Ford’s pace this way, jerking Ford up and down. 

Ford was really enjoying being dominated, even if he no idea he was being dominated. His favorite part was making Bill feel good. Bill was rolling his hips and moaning continuously, so that was a good sign. Bill pulled Ford all the way down and cried out as he spilled his seed into the condom. He loosened his grip on the tie and lifted Ford off his face.

“Alright, Rick! Time for the tiebreaker!”

Rick grumbled something from the floor. 

“Bill, I’m exhausted,” Ford undid the tie. 

“Alright, we’ll take a break to rehydrate and for snacks. Keep that tie on. Makes you sexy.”

Ford blushed and retied it. Rick got up off the floor and went to the bathroom to wash his eye out. Bill pushed himself to sit up. He asked for Rick’s party punch, and Ford passed him the bowl. Bill drank directly from the bowl and gargled the punch then swallowed. 

“Better than mouthwash,” she said.

“What’s wrong with you, Bill?” Ford smiled.

“I’m the physical manifestation of a particle broken off a non physical triangular demonic entity.”

Ford shook his head. “You’re so weird.”

Rick came back from the bathroom wiping his eyes on his shirt. He took the punch bowl from Bill and chugged the rest.

“All right,” Rick cracked his knuckles. “Let’s do this shit.”

Bill swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He pulled Stanford onto his lap and spread Ford’s legs wide apart. Rick dropped his pants and gave his erection a few strokes. Rick took Ford’s face in his hands and kissed Ford deeply. Ford let his fingers trailed down Rick’s chest. Bill wrapped his hands around Ford’s waist.

“Stay puffed, marshmallow man,” Bill squeezed the flab of Ford’s tummy.

Ford blushed and giggled nervously. Bill’s body was dark and thickly muscled meanwhile Rick was evenly tanned and toned. Ford suddenly felt he was touching things he had no right to lay his hands on. Rick placed his hands on Ford’s hips and lifted Ford slightly. BIll spread Ford’s butt cheeks apart and Rick touched his erection to Ford’s butthole.

“W-w-ww-w-ww-wait!” Ford spluttered. (Honestly, how did he not see this coming?) “Shouldn’t we use a condom?”

“You’re not gonna get pregnant, Fordsy,” Rick smirked.

“But isn’t this...messy?”

Rick sighed and looked under his bed. He pulled out a laundry basket filled with square foil. 

“Ribbed? Or the one that comes with warming gel?”

Ford had no idea what either of that meant. He was too distracted by the fact that Rick even managed to acquire so many condoms.

“Never mind, here’s one with both,” Rick pulled a new condom from the basket..

Rick rolled it onto his dick and pulled out another packet containing water based lubricant. He poured the lube onto his fingers and slowly inserted one into Ford’s butt. Ford squeaked and tightened around Rick’s finger. Rick waited until Ford relaxed before inserting a second finger. Slowly, he pumped those fingers in and out until Ford announced he felt ready. Rick took his fingers out and pushed his dick into Ford. Ford gripped the sheets of his bed as Rick filled him. Rick hissed as he slid his dick slowly in and out of Ford’s ass. 

“God,  _ Rick… _ ” Ford moaned.

“Hehe, tell me about it,” Rick panted.

Rick kissed Ford and picked up his thrusting pace. Ford wrapped his arms around Rick’s neck, kissing back with passion. BIll’s idle hands became idle no more. One hand snuck its way between Rick and Ford and found Ford’s erect penis. While that hand jerked Ford off, the other played with Ford’s nipples. Bill’s mouth made itself busy on Ford’s neck, leaving love bites and hickeys. Ford pulled back from Rick and Bill took this opportunity to play tonsil hockey. Rick thrusted faster to get Ford’s attention. Ford threw his head back and cried out. Charlie and Grandpa Joe stole Fizzy Lifting Drinks. 

Ford climaxed with a lot of fanfare, moaning and panting both Rick’s name and Bill’s. Rick came soon after. He pulled out slowly and kneeled on the floor before the bed. Bill leaned back and lied on the bed. Ford pulled himself off Bil and lied down next to him. All three men lay panting and grinning stupidly at each other. The television still played.

“You  _ stole  _ Fizzy Lifting Drinks!” Willy Wonka screamed. “You get NOTHING! You LOSE! GOOD DAY, SIR!!!”

“I don’t know, I think I won,” Bill laughed.

“Cipher, I swear. Shut up, or I will make you shut up,” Rick dragged himself onto the bed.

Ford cuddled into Rick’s chest. Rick seemed unsure of what was happening, but chuckled and petted Ford’s hair. Bill wrapped his arm around Ford’s waist and brought himself closer to complete the cuddle sandwich. Ford let himself drift off to sleep, the ending scene to  _ Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory _ playing in the background. 


	10. Bill is a Bad Triangle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill's manipulative tendencies begin to shine.

Ford woke up with a massive hangover. His skull felt ready to split in half. There was so much noise. He rolled over to see what the source of the noise was. Rick and Bill had a LaserDisc player going, dancing to the  _ Monster Mash _ song. Ford groaned and put the pillow over his head, futily blocking out the song. He felt his shoulder being tapped on. He lifted the pillow and saw Rick offering him a bottle of water and two yellow pills. Ford took the bottle of water, had a drink, and then took the pills as well. He was really beginning not to care about how much substance he put in his body. Bill hit stop on the disc player and tapped his cane on the floor. 

“Alright, Ricardo. Stanford and I have some talking to do.”

Rick got up and left the room. Ford put himself back under the pillow. He could feel the bed shift under him as Bill sat on the edge. 

“Last night was fun, weren’t it? Never thought you had it in you to take a dick up your ass, especially Rick’s dick.”

Ford didn’t respond.

“How long have you been sleeping with him?”

Ford still didn’t say anything.

“Well, I know you like him and all, but he’s  _ my _ boyfriend. He’s the only...he’s the only one who’s ever put up with me so long. I can’t let anyone else have him.”

Ford peeked from under the pillow. Bill was trembling. He had his hand covering his mouth, and tears were streaming from his eyes. Ford closed his eyes, burning with shame. 

“I still want to be friends, Stanford,” Bill’s voice was shaky. “But I need you to not sleep with Rick anymore,  _ please _ .”

Now Ford was trembling. “Bill, I am  _ so sorry, _ ” Ford moaned.

“I want to believe that,” Bill sighed. 

Ford removed his head from under the pillow and sat up. Bill wasn’t even looking at him. He gently placed his hand on Bill’s shoulder. Immediately, Bill recoiled and scooted away. Ford had to bite his fist to keep from crying. Nothing he could say could make Bill forgive him. Quietly, he gathered his clothes and got dressed. He couldn’t find his socks, so he slipped into his shoes barefoot and walked out the door. He’d never heard Bill sob before. Ford’s heart ached to know BIll needed his inhaler for when he cried as well.”

“What’s the damage?” Rick was waiting outside in the corridor.

Ford looked at his feet. “He’s really upset.”

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your dorm.”

Ford knew it would probably be best if he walked alone, but he really wanted Rick to be by his side. They walked in silence. Inside Ford’s dorm, they stood awkwardly behind the closed door, not knowing what to say or who should speak first.

“We can’t see each other anymore,” Ford said more to Rick’s shoes than to Rick.

“So,” Rick told the ceiling. “I guess I’ll leave you alone forever then.”

They looked at each other. Ford leaned in for a goodbye hug, but Rick turned it into a kiss.

“We can’t,” Ford willed himself to pull away. “Bill really likes you.”

“Yeah, well I,” Rick rubbed the back of his neck. “I really like you.”

“I really like you, too,” Ford whispered. 

They wasted no time kissing again. Ford pushed RIck back against the wall and turned the lock in the doorknob. He didn’t care about consequences; he cared about Rick. He wanted Rick. Maybe he was being selfish but Rick wanted him back. This sort of thing was fate, wasn’t it? It didn’t take long for Ford to lose his clothes. That was fine; they were a day old and they were disgusting from sitting in a room stinking of booze and sex overnight. Ford and Rick made love on Ford’s bed, after Ford put a protective towel over the sheets. 

“Cipher’s gonna tear me a new one,” Rick said when it was over. 

Ford snorted. “Now who’s the one talking about Bill after sex?”

Rick gave Ford a playful swat on the arm. Their laughter was light and died down quickly.

“Better go get reamed,” Rick got out of the bed. Ford stayed on the bed.

“Goodbye, Rick.”

“Yeah. Bye.”

And with that, Rick left the dorm.

_____

 

Bill had cleaned while Rick was out. Rick came to an immaculate room smelling of a freshly rained in pine forest. Bill was on the bed, waiting for him.

“The fuck have you been.”

“Took Ford back to his dorm,” Rick mumbled. 

Bill arched an eyebrow. “You’ve really got it bad for him, huh?”

“I mean…” Rick shrugged, pointedly looking away from Bill’s gaze.

Bill burst out laughing. Admittedly, that was not the response Rick expected.

“Is laughter, like, an automatic response to stress for you, or?”

“Awwwwhhhh, fuck,” Bill flopped backwards on the bed. “This is fucking hilarious. You and good old Six Fingers. Never woulda thought.”

“Listen-”

“Shut the fuck up. After everything I did for you. Turned out my best tricks for you.”

“I’m so-”

“Can it. Am I…”BIll sat up, “Am I not good enough for you?”

He got up and walked towards Rick. Without his cane, Bill had to lean on him for support. “Showed you the best time of your life. Now you wanna throw me away for a boring old bookworm.”

“I don’t want to throw you away,” Rick desperately wanted a drink. Or a pill. He was too sober for this. 

“All the flash and glitter couldn’t keep your eyes on me.”

“It’s not like that.”

“He better in bed?”

“He’s...nicer.”

“Ya sap.”

Rick shifted uncomfortably. “I thought you and I were just, you know, dicking around.”

Bill’s face contorted. “All right.”

Bill was really good at making people feel bad. Rick had no idea what to say. 

“You, uh, you gonna dump me?”

“What, so you can run back to Ford home free? Fuck no.”

“Then?”

“Stay with me?” Bill looked at Rick pleadingly. 

“Uh,” Rick looked away. “Sure.”

Bill took Rick’s jaw and forced eye contact. “Eyes on me?”

Rick gave a weak smile. “Eyes on you, Bill.”


	11. Fiddleford Arrives Like A Breath of Fresh Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fiddleford H McGucket comes in and briefly saves the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but the next bit is ridiculously long.

“Stanford, are you ok?” Fiddleford asked while the Chemical Physics teacher lectured. “You really are looking down in the doldrums.”

“I’ve done some stupid and terrible things,” Ford rubbed the bridge of his nose. “And I fear I may have lost a friend because of it.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“The mess I’m in, you might want to stop being my friend as well.”

“Then it sounds like you need a friend to listen even more.”

“No talking during my lecture,” the professor did not turn away from the board. “Chit chat after class, you’re paying to be here.”

Ford scribbled down a note for Fiddleford to read,  _ Come with me to my room after class. I have to tell you in private. _ Fiddleford read the note and nodded. When class was over, the two Fords walked back to Stanford’s room. Fiddleford took a seat in the desk chair while Ford anxiously paced around.

“What sort of trouble are you in, friend?” Fiddleford clasped his hands together.

“Well, it’s a long story, but I suppose the first thing you should know is that….I’m gay,” Ford didn’t expect to be coming out like this, or at all really.

“You don’t look very happy to me.”

Ford blew his breath out in short laughs. God bless Fiddleford’s heart. “I mean I’m a homosexual, Fiddleford.”

Fiddleford didn’t say anything, so Ford continued. He explained about the Space Drugs(™), which led to meeting Rick. He recounted the parties and the sex, omitting most of the salacious details. He didn’t dare talk about the movie marathon threesome; he defined it as Bill “finding out the day before Halloween”. Ford ended with Rick’s confession and his own dilemma. Fiddleford listened quietly, commenting occasionally to prove he was doing so. At the end of Ford’s story, Fiddleford said nothing. He rested his cheek in his hand, expressionless.

“What do you think, Fiddleford?” Stanford stopped pacing and sat down on the floor. “You can tell me the truth.”

“Ok, well,” Fiddleford sat up straight. “I think you’ve really gotten yourself in it.”

Stanford laughed mirthlessly. “Thank you, Fiddleford.”

“You said you wanted the truth,” Fiddleford leaned forward in the chair. “You really like this Rick guy?”

Ford nodded. 

“Are you sure he likes you though?”

“He, he said he did.”

“Yeah, but you said he and Bill were involved in some weird sex competition with each other. How would you know he’s not using you as a pawn in their game?”

Ford looked away. Suddenly, the movie marathon seemed … unscrupulous.

“He said he liked me,” Ford repeated. 

Fiddleford was unconvinced. “Alright. Are you still taking those ‘space drugs’ he gave you?”

“Trademark,” Stanford replied automatically.

“What?”

“Space drugs, trademark.”

“Ah. Well. Do you still take them?”

Stanford didn’t need to answer for Fiddleford to know. Fiddleford pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, I don’t to tell you what to do about that.”

Ford sighed. He knew, and he was trying but still couldn’t openly ask for help.

“What will I do about Bill?”

“I don’t think that’s a mess you can clean up, Stanford. Imagine his situation, he must be very hurt right now.”

Ford held his head in his hands. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid, but he’d stupidly and selfishly chased after Rick anyways. Then the consequences came and they were so much larger than Ford had ever expected. 

“I’m supposed to be smarter than this,” Ford moaned. “What happened?”

“It’s impossible to outsmart the inclination of the heart, Stanford,” Fiddleford got off the chair and sat down next to Stanford. 

Stanford appreciated the sentiment, but was not consoled. Hot tears streamed down his face. Fiddleford quietly patted Ford on the back. The two men sat in silence until Stanford had calmed down. 

“Stanford,” Fiddleford began. “Listen…”

Ford gave a short laugh. “Is this the part where you tell me you’re not gay?” 

“Well, there is that, but that’s not what I was going to say,” Fiddleford chuckled. “I wanted to say that I am here for you. No matter what, I’m going to support you as a friend. If you need help, I want you to come to me.”

“Thank you, Fiddleford,” Stanford hugged his friend.

“Okay,” Fiddleford said after a few seconds. “This is starting to get-”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare say it,” Stanford grinned.

“ _ Gay _ ,” Fiddleford whispered.

Stanford pushed Fiddleford away laughing. He  had a feeling, if Fiddleford was with him, everything would turn out all right.


	12. Thanksgiving Dick

Stanford clung to Fiddleford like a young lamb, though Fiddleford objected to being Bo Peep. He preferred to refer to himself as a mother hen. Fiddleford spent as much of his waking time as possibly with Stanford. He became a twenty-four seven cheerleader, encouraging Stanford to eat regularly and stay hydrated. He found the hardest thing to get Stanford to do was to go to sleep. Fiddleford didn’t know much about the Space Drugs(™) and he didn’t care to really find out what they were, but he knew Stanford had a hard time letting go of the blue pill. The way Stanford had phrased it, the pill eliminated the need for sleep. Fiddleford was concerned that going for extended periods without sleep would take a great toll on Stanford’s health that Stanford wouldn’t notice until it was too late. Fiddleford threw out the pills, but soon found Stanford had replaced them with excessive coffee and energy drinks.

“This may sound ridiculous, Stanford, but you may be addicted to being awake,” Fiddleford said one day.

“You’re right,” Stanford took a gulp of instant coffee brewed with Shark Energy Drink. “That does sound ridiculous.”

“Be serious. What are you even doing with all that time?”

“Homework.”

“Really? You’re not sneaking out to see Those Two Whose Names We Dare Not Utter?”

“No! I haven’t seen either of them in almost three week. It’s like they disappeared.”

Fiddleford personally hoped that they had indeed fallen off the face of the Earth, but he didn’t voice that sentiment out loud. The more they stayed away from Stanford, the better. Fiddleford wasn’t just supervising Stanford, he was engaging Stanford. He studied with Stanford and took him out on hikes. Together, they would explore parks looking for anything that looked abnormal. Fiddleford was surprised to discover Stanford’s artistic ability, and was more than happy to encourage it. It made their Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons campaigns a lot more engaging. Fiddleford was a one man twelve step recovery program. It seemed Stanford was making good progress. Stanford kept himself busy enough and didn’t talk about Those Two nearly as much as he did at the beginning of November. Hopefully, Stanford would keep up that momentum through Thanksgiving Break. Fiddleford hated to leave his friend alone, but he convinced himself Stanford would be busy with family. He left for home feeling proud of Stanford.

Stanford said goodbye to Fiddleford at the airport. After watching the plane take off, Ford couldn’t help but feel a little empty. Spending so much time with Fiddleford made him feel as if he were part of a duo again. Heck, their names were similar enough they could have been twins. This would be the first Thanksgiving he had ever spent without Stanley. Stanford was unsure if he would be able to bear it. The house wouldn’t be empty with his mother, his father, and little brother Shermy, but it wouldn’t be right without the full house. Stanford rummaged his pockets for change and found a payphone.

“Pines Pawn Shop,” a monotone voice picked up.

“Hi, Dad,” Ford automatically hunched his shoulders even though his pa was not physically present.

“Stanford.”

“Um, Dad, I was wondering. If I could stay at Backupsmore for the break. Instead of coming home.”

“You in trouble?”

“No, no. Just that. There’s a bunch of work I want to do. Gotta keep ahead of the curve.”

“Ma’s gonna be upset.”

“I know, I know. Can you tell her I’m sorry for me?”

“Alright, son. Work hard. We’re counting on you to get famous, you know.”

“I know, Dad. Goodbye.”

Ford hung up the phone and shakily exhaled. Even without the stone gaze, his father made him unsteady in the knees. Ford sat down in the waiting area for a few minutes. After he had collected himself, he left the airport and wandered the nearby streets. The air was crisp and cold, good for clearing a muddled head. The leaves were almost done falling, and thick clouds promised snow soon. Ford walked aimlessly until the sun lowered and turned the sky purple. Ford checked his watch. By the time he got back to campus, the cafeteria would be closed. A convenience store was nearby. He supposed that’s why they were called convenience stores. The motion alarm sang as he crossed the threshold, getting the attention of the two men at the cashier counter. Ford recognized one and his mouth dried. 

Rick had lost a lot of weight. It made him look taller. His outfit was ludicrous, torn up jeans that were too tight and too short and an oversized puffy orange jacket. Something strange was happening with his hair. It seemed to be going white at the tips. Rick’s unibrow had completely blanched. His face was haggard and there were black bags under his eyes, but he made the look attractive. Ford’s heart thumped in his throat.

“What’s the word, Sixer?” Rick slapped a green bill and some change on the counter.

Ford cleared his throat. “Hello, Rick. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah. Been working on something. You should come by and see it.”

Ford tried to give Rick his best meaningful look.

“It’s not what you think. But I’ve been working on that too. Go grab what you’re in for and I’ll show you myself.”

Ford walked down the aisles, having to look up and down for the instant noodles. He came back to the counter with noodles, popcorn, pretzels, and candy. He was not a very disciplined buyer. The cashier didn’t say anything, but Rick made a comment about nutritional values. It wasn’t even something embarrassing but it made Ford blush as the cashier put his items in a paper bag. Ford mumbled a thank you and followed Rick out of the store. 

“Hey, check it out,” Rick said after they had walked a good distance from the store. “Cha ching.”

Rick opened his jacket to reveal a bottle of Hennessy tucked into an inside pocket. Ford stopped abruptly.

“Rick!” He hissed. “Did you _ pay _ for that!?”

“Take a good look at me, you think I got any money?”

“What happened to your, ah, business?”

“All those proceeds go to my project,” Rick twisted off the cap of the bottle and took a swig. 

The two of them caught the 72 bus line back to campus. Ford started walking in the direction of his dorm, but Rick grabbed him and pulled him to the abandoned science building. Rick didn’t let go until they were both in his little room. Rick didn’t waste any time shoving his mouth against Ford’s. Ford dropped his groceries and immediately ran his fingers through Rick’s hair. He had missed Rick so much, missed touching and being touched by Rick. Maybe this would just be a one night stand, but he craved this. He could feel Rick’s cold thin fingers trail up his stomach under his sweaters. Ford lifted his arms up and instantaneously his shirt was off. 

“Why is it so hot in here, Rick?” Ford placed his hands on Rick’s shoulders.

“Cause you’re here, baby,” Rick mumbled into Ford’s skin.

“No, really,” Ford pushed Rick away. “It is  _ sweltering _ .”

Rick groaned and turned around. “ It’s my project.”

Ford looked behind Rick. The was a contraption that looked like a cat scratching post made of metal. Surrounding it was an assortment of metal boxes with buttons and small colorful lights. Blueprints wallpapered the left wall of the room. To be more accurate, they were blue reams of paper with white scribbles on it. Taking a closer look, Ford saw the math was incredibly sloppy, but the answers were corrected when the mistakes cancelled each other out. 

“This is fascinating, Rick! What are you trying to achieve here?” Ford adjusted his glasses to see better.

“Teleportal. Stupid thing’s turning my room into a broiler. Gotta keep my actual shit off site.”

“Where’s off site?”

Rick grumbled and fiddled with the buttons on some of the metal boxes. The metal scratch post began to glow and hum. A display screen slowly dialed upwards. Rick grabbed Ford and his groceries and centered them against the door. 

“When that dial hits 88,” Rick leaned on Ford’s shoulder. “You’re gonna see some serious shit.”

Ford didn’t have time to respond before the dial hit 88. The teleportal’s humming turned to screaming and a bright flash of white light consumed the room. Ford closed his eyes and cringed. The light pierced through his eyelids. And that was the worst of it. When Ford opened his eyes, he found himself in a completely foreign room. Rick cracked his knuckles and rolled his neck. 

“It works,” Ford was awestruck. 

“Course it works,” Rick stretched his arms out. “What, you think I’m some sort of fuckwad?”

“Where are we?”

“Forks,,,,,Washington? It’s the middle of bumfuck nowhere, and no one’s gonna bother us here.”

Rick shook out his legs and strode through the room completely at home. Ford had more of a waddle, turning his head left and right to complete observe his surroundings. Rick seemed to have teleported them to a log cabin lodge of some sort. This was the trophy room, assuming by the taxidermy heads above the fireplace. There was also a polar bear rug in front of the hearth. Rick had put some firewood in and was trying to get it to start.

“Didn’t we leave your room because it was too hot?”

“Ok, there’s a difference between toasty cozy and the sun’s core.”

The wood alit and Ford forgot his comment about “toasty cozy” when he heard the soothing crackling. He set the paper bag of food down and joined Rick on the rug. Rick shrugged off his jacket. Ford took Rick’s hand in his. Rick looked at Ford with raised eyebrow, then leaned in to kiss Ford. Ford took the bait. They kissed passionately in front of the fire. 

“I’m gonna fuck you into this bear,” Rick whispered into Ford’s ear.

“You really know how to put a man in the mood.”

Ford got up to take off his pants. He folded them neatly and placed them next to his snacks. WHen he came back to the rug, Rick had simply thrown his clothes off to the side. 

“Ya got a nice, fat ass, Fordsy,” Rick licked his lips. “I’m gonna eat it.”

Ford blushed. He never would have thought his behind to be one of his best features. He got on his hands and knees so Rick could go to town on that ass. A warming feeling started in Ford’s stomach, crawled up his chest, and spread across his cheeks. Rick gripped Ford’s thick, supple thighs while he noisily ate Ford out. It wasn’t long before Ford has his face in the soft plush fur of the run, moaning Rick’s name softly. Rick heard his name and decided Ford was ready for the bear. Rick slapped Ford’s ass and got up to get his tools, a condom and a bottle of lube, from the bottom drawer of a china cabinet. 

“What are you doing?” Ford asked when Rick booted up a LaserDisc player instead of coming back to the fireplace.

“Putting a man in the mood,” Rick flipped through a few unmarked albums before deciding on a Disc to put in. 

A melody led by violins filled the room. Ford didn’t recognize the tune, but it sounded romantic. He hadn’t expected Rick to take to these sort of gestures. A fireplace and classical music in a log cabin seemed so out of character for Rick, but Rick appeared to actually be in his element. He deftly applied the lubricant, rolled on the condom, and put his penis in Ford’s butt. Ford let out a small yelp of surprise. When Rick wasn’t facing him, he had no idea when to expect being penetrated. The vulnerability and lack of knowledge was surprisingly thrilling to Ford. He had no control; and at this moment Rick could do whatever he wanted to Ford. Ford found that easy to accept, and let the sound of the orchestra on the LaserDisc wash over him. A few minutes later, he recognized the composition.

“Oh my God, this is the 1812 Overture,” Ford couldn’t believe his ears. “I’m being fucked to the 1812 Overture.”

“I call it the Illegal Tchaikovsky,” Rick smirked.

Ford clenched his fists. “You’re unbelieveable.”

Rick cackled and tangled his fingers in Ford’s hair. Ford found his face buried in the bear rug. He was irritated, but his anger melted away as each thrust of Rick’s brought wave after wave of pleasure. This angle was so much better than before. By the time the cannons came in, Ford was a mess. He was face down, grinding and moaning into the bear. Rick was atop, moaning and grinding into Ford. Ford climaxed on the last cannon, making noise almost louder than the cannon itself. Rick complimented Ford on his timing, earning a full body blush from Ford. Rick finished in time for the Overture to end and the next track played. Franz Liszt’s  _ Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 _ filled the room. The fire was beginning to die down. 

“Listen,” Rick said. “This is the most important piece of classical music.”

“Wasn’t this in that Tom and Jerry short?”

“No, shut up.”

Ford chuckled and rolled over on his back.  _ Die Fledermaus _ played after the rhapsody was finished.

“Is this just a collection of pieces that have been on Tom and Jerry cartoons?”

“Don’t be such a nerd.”


	13. Thanksgiving Dick, Part 2

It was surprising to spend a night with Rick and not wake up the next morning hungover. Ford shook the sleep from his head and got out of bed. This was not his dorm, or RIck’s. This wasn’t even the spot he fell asleep last night. Slowly, Ford recalled being teleported to a log cabin in, was it Washington? Where was Rick? Ford padded out of the room and wandered about looking for Rick. His footsteps were muffled by the plush white carpeting. The windows let in light reflected from the snow outside. Ford gazed out to see a vast blankness. Wherever he and Rick were was extraordinarily isolated. Ford thought this surprisingly romantic. It was if Rick had taken him on honeymoon. Ford grinned. He was eighteen years old, a bit too early to be honeymooning. Still, it set a bar. 

Hungry, Ford looked for a kitchen. Assumably, Rick kept it stocked with snacks. Ford was really in the mood for dry cereal. The smell of pancakes brought him to his target. Rick was already at the table, pouring syrup on his breakfast. 

“Good morning,” Ford said. “I didn’t know you cooked.”

Rick shrugged. “It’s basically chemistry, which is science. And I’m the best at science.” 

Ford laughed and sat down at the table. He watched Rick eat. He wondered if this was a habit for him. He was always noticing what Bill ate, but that was mostly because Bill did weird things with his food. Bill had once eaten s'mores made with gefilte fish. Ford had found it so repulsive he couldn’t even look at Bill for the rest of the day. Rick too was fascinating to watch. He was a surprisingly neat eater for such a sloppy drunk. 

“Something the matter?” Rick noticed Ford wasn’t eating. “Oh, do you keep kosher? Are pancakes not kosher?”

“Well, it all depends on how they’re prepared, what kind of eggs you used. Besides,” Ford gave a small chuckle. “I let you sodomize me. It’s a little late for me to be keeping kosher.”

Rick smirked. “Speaking of, ready for Round Two?”

“Rick, please, I need a shower,” Ford groaned. “And I’m not about to let my obituary read I slipped and fell in the shower having sex with my boyfriend.”

Ford slapped his hand to his mouth. He didn’t mean to use that last word. It had slipped out so fast, he didn’t have time to think. It was too late to retract the sentiment now. 

“Boyfriend, huh?” Rick’s face was unreadable. 

Ford blushed and focused his gaze on the edge of the table. “Isn’t that- well, would we not be that? Boyfriend and, I guess, boyfriend?”

Ford scratched the back of his neck. Now that he was saying it out loud, it sounded way too idealistic.  _ BillI  _ was Rick’s boyfriend, and he was Rick’s...what was the male version of a mistress? He was the person Rick was cheating on Bill with. 

“Yeah, boyfriend and boyfriend, I guess.” Rick had his chin in his hand.

“What about Bill?” Ford found this to be getting an age-old question.

Rick shrugged. “What about him?”

“You’d violate his trust like this?” Ford frowned. “Twice?”

“What do you want, a three point paragraph essay? First of all, it’s not just me. You’re in this too. Bill thinks you’re this pure sweet innocent angel who’d never pull boyfriend stealing shit like this. But we were all there to see you prove him wrong on all points. Second, Bill already knows I cheated on him and now he thinks I’m not because you went AWOL for like a month so if I start up now how’s he gonna know. Third, Bill’s not even mad. He’s just getting a kick out of letting you think he is. Didn’t you notice how psyched he was to have you suck his dick? He’s totally into you.

“So in con-fucking-clusion,” Rick slapped his hand on the table for emphasis. “You wanna be boyfriends and I...I’m cool with it. And Bill’s gonna be cool with it too. At least, he’s gonna have to be.”

“Bill..Bill likes me?”

“Oh my God,” Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. “You sure you don’t want to be  _ his _ boyfriend?”

“No! I’m sorry. I’d rather it be you.”

“Whatever, man.” Rick ate the last of his pancakes and brought the dish to the sink. 

“No, I mean it! You’re the one that I want. You’re smart and attractive, and you people to think you’re a jerk, but you’re actually really nice if people take the time to get to know you and-”

“And I’ve got a dick that fits perfectly in your ass.”

“No. I mean, yes. Well, it helps. But that’s not the main reason!”

Rick snorted. “You could be just saying that to get free Space Drugs.” He didn’t say the trademark. The implication hung in the air. 

“No. I actually, I’m trying to quit.”

“You’re going to quit drugs, and then you’re going to date the guy who sells those exact same drugs. Ok.”

Suddenly, Ford felt very stupid. Rick was right. Rick was  _ always  _ right. Trying to date Rick was so clearly a mistake and it was so obvious even Rick himself could see it. Once again, Ford’s intellect came up subpar.

“Whoa, hey, don’t cry.”

Ford hadn’t realized the tears that had formed. When he looked up at Rick, they streamed down his cheeks. Too embarrassed, Ford stood up quickly and rushed out of the kitchen. Vision blurred, he sped into whichever room was behind the closest door. Conveniently, it was the bathroom, complete with the shower he needed. Ford could hear Rick on the other side of the door. He pushed his body against the wood so Rick can’t enter, but decided not to lock it. Ford was heavier than Rick, so after futile attempts to open the door, Rick left. Ford was left to cry in peace and re-evaluate his situation. He got up from the floor and sat on the toilet with the cover down. Rick had explained it very clearly. Ford accepted he was not entirely faultless. He had trouble accepting Bill was playing with him. It was even stranger to consider Bill might actually be attracted to him. Bill was friendly, and affectionate, but that seemed more likely to be caused by the fact Bill had no boundaries when it came to personal relationships. But Bill as a boyfriend did not seem problematic. Bill was jovial. Bill was already friends with Ford. Bill had already had sex with Ford. And Bill was romantically attracted to Ford (according to Rick). All the parts were there. All that was necessary was Ford’s reciprocation. 

There was a knock on the door. 

“Ford? Hey man, I didn’t mean to make you cry like that.”

“You can come in,” Ford was done crying and now he was ready to talk.

Rick entered the bathroom, looked around, and decided to lean against the sink. “Listen. I. . . I’m not great at this stuff. The whole boyfriend thing. But I’m not saying I don’t want to do it.”

“Oh.”

“I mean. If you don’t want to anymore, that’s fine. But if you do want to, I’m down. Either way,” Rick shrugged. “It’s up to you.”

“I want you…” Ford deliberated. “I want you to say you want to be my boyfriend.”

Rick shifted his eyes away and mumbled. 

“If you don’t want to, I can just go.”

“No! No, fine. I want to be your boyfriend.”

Ford stood up and hugged Rick. He was thrilled when Rick hugged him back. Ford lifted his head and kissed Rick. Rick kissed back. They kissed for a very long time. 

“So about that shower,” Rick said when they were finished.

“Rick, come on,” Ford scowled. “I meant every word of what I said. I’m not going to die because of your libido.”

“You’re one to talk. Fine. No sex. Let’s just shower.”

The shower was nonsexual, as Rick promised. It was sensual and intimate. Ford let Rick wash him. Rick went over Ford’s body with a washcloth very thoroughly, almost reverently. Ford’s chest warmed over being so cared for. When it was Ford’s turn to reciprocate, his fingers found scars on Rick’s body his eyes had never noticed before.

“Yeah, you were kinda too distracted by my dick in your ass to really pay attention,” Rick snarked.

Ford blushed. “What happened with this one?” he brushed against a linear scar just under Rick’s knee. 

“Mmmmmm, might be the stairs one.”

Ford waited for Rick to continue.

“Fell down a flight. Was being kicked out. Give ya three guesses why.”

Ford had an idea, and didn’t say anything.

“Mom and dad were super uber Catholics. Totally freaked when they found out. Came home one day and all my shit’s out on the street. Mom’s screaming ‘bout how I’ll never step foot in that house while she’s still alive. Whatever. Don’t really remember how the stairs came in but that whole weekend’s kinda just a blur,” Rick made the universal gesture for drinking alcohol. 

“How old were you.” It was a question where the answer wouldn’t matter, and so it was not a question at all. 

“Seventeen.” The same age Stanley got kicked out. 

Ford swallowed in an attempt to alleviate his dry mouth. He didn’t know what to say.

“Anyways. Doesn’t matter now.” 

Rick turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Ford followed. Rick was quiet when he dried Ford off. Ford was quiet, trying to think of ways to relate without sounding like he was making the experience about himself. He came up with nothing. 

Rick gave Ford an outfit for the day. It was a little too big on Ford, and it made him look adorable in rolled up sleeves. 

“Whose are these?” Ford asked, not wanting to have Rick be silent the whole day.

“Not mine.”

Ford closed his eyes. Stolen clothing: he should have not really expected anything else. Rick was too skinny for his clothes to fit Ford. Ford had left his shirt in Rick’s room in Backupsmore. He hoped he hadn’t left any pressing matters there either. He wanted to take a Thanksgiving vacation, in this lodge, with Rick.


	14. Thanksgiving Dick, Part 3

“Wait, today is Thanksgiving,” Ford said this not as a person who had forgotten when Thanksgiving was, but as a person who had thought Thanksgiving was the next day.

Rick looked up from Ford’s crotch. “Well I’ve got my Thanksgiving feast right here,” he said with his hand pointing Ford’s cock away from his face.

“That’s gross. And nutritionally empty.”

Rick waggled his eyebrows and went back to sucking Ford off. Ford leaned his head back and thought about the holiday. His ma was probably starting to cook dinner. It took the whole day because she would always get distracted when she answered the phone. Why people would bother to call a phone psychic on Thanksgiving, Ford would never know. His pa would be in his chair, reading the paper. The television might be on, but he wouldn’t be listening. Shermy would probably be playing in his pen. Stanley would be...Stanley. Stanley would be not there; he would be somewhere else. Ford’s chest squeezed and he subconsciously tightened his grip on Rick’s hair. He let go when Rick made a noise of displeasure. Smoothing out the strands, Ford pushed the thought of Stanley out of his mind. He’d have to suffer consequences for once. 

Ford finished with a shudder. Rick pulled away from Ford’s groin, his eyes for once not assaulted with sperm. The safety goggles had been unnecessary. He looked cute, though. Rick got up to kiss Ford, but Ford turned his head away. 

“Brush your teeth,” Ford pushed Rick’s lips away.

Rick grumbled various arguments, but went to clean his mouth out anyways. Ford made himself decent. Hungry, he went back to the kitchen. Ford found a sack of potatoes in the cupboards. He could make latkes, probably. Possibly. He’d watched his mother make them, but he’d never really paid attention. Ok, he couldn’t make latkes. But he wanted to eat potatoes, so he washed them and began to cut them. 

“You’re holding the knife wrong,” Rick came up from behind.

Rick’s arms slithered under Ford’s and grabbed the knife. He repositioned the knife so Ford was holding it correctly. Rick took Ford’s knife wielding hand and guided Ford into the proper technique for potato slicing. Ford blushed slightly; Rick’s hand was warm. 

“What are you making?” Rick’s chin rested in the dip of Ford’s collar. 

“Don’t know. Just wanted to eat.”

“Mmm.”

Rick detached from Ford and pulled out a pot from the bottom cupboard. After filling it halfway with oil, Rick set it on the stove and turned the heat to high. Ford watched as Rick rinsed the cut potatoes a second time and let them soak in a saltwater bath. 

“Where did you learn how to cook?” Ford asked as Rick took out a pan and some spices.

“Let’s go back to the part where I grew up in a Mexican Catholic household.”

“Oh,” Ford didn’t understand, but he’d already made himself look stupid in front of Rick enough. “So, you believe in God?”

Rick snorted. “I’m not even  _ home _ and I’m still having conversations about God on Thanksgiving.”

Ford shifted uncomfortably. This was the wrong subject for Rick.

“I abandoned God the day He abandoned me.”

“What do you mean?”

“God got me kicked out of my house. I’m not about to do Him any favors.”

The oil began to bubble. Rick turned down the heat slightly and strained the salted potatoes. Carefully, he poured the potatoes into the pot. Ford jumped back as the oil splattered when it came in contact with the cool water from the potatoes. Rick seemed completely unbothered. Ford stood away from the stove and ruminated on Rick’s word. Well, first, he made a mental note not to talk about religion to Rick. Then he thought about what Rick had said. Ford imagined the scene of Rick being ousted from his home. The viewpoint was familiar: inside the house, from the second story. Rick landed on his back on the sidewalk, a duffel bag thrown at him. He got up and looked up at Ford, pleading in his eyes. Ford jolted out of imaginary scene. That was Stanley being kicked out, not Rick. Ford leaned back on the counter, trying to steady himself without making it obvious to Rick. He knew Stanley must have felt like Ford had abandoned him. Ford felt he had indeed abandoned his brother. But did Stanley feel like Ford had gotten him kicked out? Ford frowned. That wasn’t his fault. Their father kicked Stan out; it wasn’t Ford’s idea. 

“What do you want to eat with these potatoes?” Rick shook Ford from his thoughts.

“I...I hadn’t thought of it.”

“Mmm.”

Rick produced another pan and poured enough water in it to cover the bottom completely. He took a metal ladle from the drawer and took oil from the pot to pour into the first pan. He tossed rosemary, oregano, thyme, and chopped garlic into the pan’s oil and turned on the heat. While the burner warmed, Rick took out a bag of green beans from the fridge and laid them on the cutting board where the potatoes had been. The oil pan began to simmer, so Rick took out a perforated ladle and scooped the potatoes from the pot into the pan and left them to saute. After turning off the pot’s heart, Rick cut the tips off the green beans and tossed them into the water pan with a generous helping of salt. He turned on the water pan’s heat and placed a lid over the beans. Ford stood at the edge of the kitchen, out of Rick’s way and observing intensely. 

Rick grabbed a beer from the fridge and drank half of it in one go. He let Ford have a soda. They toasted while the oil and water bubbled and popped. 

“I can only imagine what kind of bullshit Bill would have me cook,” Rick downed the rest of his beer and got another. 

“He wouldn’t even eat it,” Ford took a sip of his soda. “I think he just likes weird food.”

“He eats sometimes. Disgusting shit for disgusting reasons.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“No. You probably don’t want to know much about Bill.”

“I already don’t know much about him. I don’t even know what dorm building he’s in.”

“I don’t think he lives in a dorm. Just ‘away’,” Rick made finger quotes and shrugged.

“How much do we know about him anyways?”

Rick shrugged again. “He’s rich, wears a suit like, everyday. Into knifeplay.”

“No. Not what I meant. That sounds dangerous, what is that don’t tell me. I meant, what do we know about his personal life?”

“Hmm,” Rick put the beer can to his lips, but did not actually take a drink. “Jack shit?”

Ford furrowed his brow. “Doesn’t it bother you to be sleeping with someone you barely know?”

“Nnnnnnnooooot really?” Rick gave Ford a look. “Do you even know my last name?”

Ford opened his mouth to answer, but he didn’t. He looked away from Rick, blushing. 

“Holy shit. It’s  _ Sanchez _ . Ricardo Maria Joaquin de la Cruz Sanchez del Sol.”

“I- uh, wow. Ok. Wait, your middle name is Maria?”

“You know….”

Ford threw his hands up. “Alright! Ok, you have your point. I don’t know that much about you either. But I’d like to learn.”

Rick shrugged and returned his attention to the pots on the stove. “Set the table.”

Ford found this task a little more difficult than usual. He did not know where the tableware was located, and he didn’t to bother Rick with asking. He fumbled around the drawers and cupboards until he managed to get a table set for two. Meanwhile, Rick got a wooden spoon and stirred the vegetables around in their respective pans, making sure they cooked evenly. They cooked quickly so Rick scooped them out of the pan into serving dishes and brought them to the table that Ford had set with the methodical precision of a scientist. 

“Wanna break out some candles?” Rick joked.

“It’s the middle of the day,” Ford fixed a fork.

“We can close the blinds.”

Ford shook his head and sat down. “This is fine, Rick.”

Time had no meaning in the isolated cabin, but Ford assumed this meal was a late lunch. Thanksgiving late lunch. It was really good. Ford hadn’t eaten breakfast, so he helped himself to a second plate. Rick had filled up on pancakes, so he got himself a small serving that he mostly pushed around on his plate before putting it in his mouth. Ford watched. Maybe he did make a habit out of watching people eat. 

“What’s your major?” Ford realized he didn’t know this.

“Nuclear physics. Don’t really go to class though.”

“Why not?”

Rick shrugged. “Don’t feel like it. Could learn enough on my own.”

Ford chewed in thought. “What about Bill? What’s he in school for?”

“Dentistry.”

“Wh-really?”

“I know right? Gives me nightmares just thinking about it. Those poor future patients. I hope he doesn’t specialize in children.”

Ford chuckled. Bill in dentistry was dangerous, but Bill would probably be dangerous in any field. He could probably make cashiering hazardous.

“What’s next on the Q and A?” Rick stabbed a green bean.

“Ummmm, where do you see yourself in ten years?”

“What is this, a job interview?”

“I mean like, what job do you want? Or do you see yourself married with kids?”

“Are you proposing?”

Ford went completely red. Hadn’t he been thinking about honeymoons earlier. “I’m just...wondering.”

Rick shrugged. “Not really a guy for plans. I like to play things by ear.”

“Alright. What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue. You?”

“Red. Sometimes green.”

Rick snorted. “Christmas colors? Really?”

“Red and green existed before Christmas did.” Ford threw a potato at Rick.

Rick dodged and threw a green bean back. “My turn. Your fam know you dick guys?”

“Oh, no,” Ford paled. “I just found out myself. I think my ma would be ok with it. But Pa…”

“But your dad would probably react the same way my ‘rents did.”

Ford put down his fork and knife. “Probably.” 

Ford knew his father would have mostly likely been enraged. Possibly kicked out as Stan was. Would Stan accept him? Maybe not now, now that Stan was lost forever and probably hated Ford now. But if this was happening before that Incident, Ford knew he would have definitely come out to Stan first. Stanley would have accepted him, and if their father found out, Stanley would have defended him. Well, that’s what would have happened if things hadn’t turned out the way they did.

“Your turn.”

“Ummmmm,” Ford didn’t want to ask if Rick had siblings just yet, in case he would have to answer the same question. “Do you have any secret talents?”

“I work a pretty mean pole. I’d show you, but this place doesn’t come with one.”

Ford held a fork full of food in front of his mouth. “You mean, stripping?”

“Yyyyyyup. I had it raining on me back in the day. My turn. What’s your favorite way of getting dick so far?”

Ford had to set his fork down. He couldn’t eat and have a conversation about sex at the same time. There were some things that were impossible to multi-task. 

“Come on, Sixer,” Rick goaded. “You like it up the ass, in your mouth? What?”

Ford put his face in his hands. “Well,” Ford’s reply was muffled. “Last night was fun.”

“The Illegal Tchaikovsky is always a fan favorite,” Rick’s grin was lecherous. “But I’m thinking of something new.”

“I’m not eager to find out about an ‘Illegal Chopin’,” Ford said.

Rick clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Won’t have sex in showers, won’t have sex to Chopin. Such a prude, Sixer.”

“What are you planning, Rick?”

“I’m gonna fuck you on top of this table,” Rick tapped the wood for emphasis.

Well, that seemed tame enough. “Are we going to clear the table first?”

“Duhhh. Less you want to wake up smelling like greens and mash.”

“No. No. Absolutely not.”

Rick snickered and took the rest of the food off the table. Ford gathered the plates and silverware, rinsed them off, and put them in the dishwasher.  He would have started on the pot and pans, but Rick told him to leave it. Rick grabbed Ford’s shoulders and steered towards the table. He had Ford bend over the table and eagerly pulled down Ford’s pants. 

“What a sweet ass you’ve got,” Rick squeezed it.

“Are you going to...um,” Ford mumbled out the rest. 

“Am I gonna eat it again?” Rick repeated. “Like it’s fucking dessert.”

Rick got down on his knees and did exactly what he said he was going to. Ford’s knees went weak and he had to shift his weight to be supported from the tabletop. As arousal coursed through him, he briefly reflected on how having sex over a table was not something he ever expected doing. If he was being honest, he didn't think he’d be having sex before getting married. Now he had gone from his first kiss, to getting a blowjob, to giving a blowjob, to a threesome, to the Illegal Tchaikovsky, to this in the span of three months. He had the feeling Stan would high six him over this. 

“Rick. Condom. Lube,” Ford said after hearing the sound of Rick undoing his pants. 

“Whaaaat. I’m clean. Water based lubricant right here,” Rick made a sound that could only be made with a wet and slimy tongue. 

“Rick….”

Rick said something under his breath and in Spanish, but went to get the necessary items. Ford called after Rick to brush his teeth. He took the time to properly remove his clothing and folded them into a neat pile on the chair at the head of the table. Rick came back naked, sporting a full erection, and with a little bag that contained condoms, lube, and mints. 

“You didn't cheat and just put a bunch of mints in your mouth, did you?” Ford stopped Rick from kissing him. “You brushed your teeth properly?”

“Yes! God!” Rick rolled his eyes. “Jeez are you my dentist too?”

“Too?”

“Bill. Dentistry. Least he lets me have a lollipop after.”

“That seems counterproductive.”

“It’s ta get ya back in the office, Sixer.”

Rick pushed Ford back onto the table. “Step into mine.”

Ford would have said something smart if he hadn't just hit the back of his head on mahogany. It smarted a little but he was fine. Ford laid flat on his back while Rick applied lube and put on the condom. He saw his legs behind hooked over Rick’s shoulders. 

“Is there a name for this move too?”

“Would be the Chopin, but i guess now it’s  _ 4’33 _ .”

“Let me guess,  _ Chopsticks _ would have been playing.”

“No!...Yes.”

Ford shook his head. Rick growled and shoved his cock into Ford’s ass. Ford gasped and arched his back at the suddenness. Rick grabbed Ford’s wrists and forced them to be either side of Ford’s head.  Ford looked up at Rick, panting slightly. The ceiling light was directly above them, giving Rick a halo. The word “angel” came into Ford’s mind, but Rick’s expression was to mischievous for an angel.  _ Devil.  _

Rick’s grip on Ford’s wrists tightened when he began thrusting. Ford thought given Rick’s skinniness and Ford’s own natural build for strength and history in boxing, despite being no good at it, he could probably force Rick to let him go. But he was ok with this. He may have gotten a lot of experience lately, but it's not like he knew all the ins and outs of sex and all the depraved ways two or more people could have it. Rick knew, and Ford was willing to let Rick have total control for these matters. 

“What could you possibly be thinking about while I’ve got my dick in your ass?”

“You know a lot about sex.”

“Duhhh.”

“You’re really good at it.”

“Hell yeahhh.”

“Am I- do you think I’m good in bed?”

“Wouldn’t stick around if you weren’t.”

Ford frowned. Was that really the basis of their whole relationship?

“Hey, come on, I’m kidding. But yeah. You’re goddamn great in the sack.”

Rick leaned down to kiss Ford. He let go of Ford’s wrists so Ford could run his fingers through Rick’s hair. Then Ford had to push Rick back because he was not flexible enough to keep his knees at his ears for extended periods of time, no matter how good Rick’s thrusts felt at that angle. Rick let Ford’s legs slide off his shoulders and Ford wrapped them around Rick’s waist. Rick sped up his thrusts and was more than happy to hear Ford moan and see him writhe in pleasure. 

“Nnngh,  _ Rick,”  _ Ford found himself getting close almost embarrassingly fast. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Rick continued thrusting, relentless. “Say my name, baby.”

“Rick, rick…” What was his full name? “Ricardo Maria Sanchez.”

“Pfftthhahaha, close enough.”

Rick ran his hands into Ford’s hair, petting Ford softly. He kissed Ford again, moaning into Ford’s mouth as he climaxed. He stayed leaned over Ford for a few moments, collecting himself and mumbling something else in Spanish. Ford thought it sounded like “taco row”. He didn’t understand a lick of Spanish. He might have to take a class. And he still had his erection. That didn’t go unnoticed by Rick. He took Ford’s manhood in hand. It took about a minute of a Rick Sanchez Handjob© for Ford to orgasm, moaning out Rick’s name (the short version). 

“Boosh,” Rick removed his now sticky hand. “Four minutes, thirty three seconds.”

“Was it really only that long?” Ford had his eyes closed, warming in afterglow. 

“Nah, it was probably actually eight minutes.”

Ford propped himself up on his elbows. “I need another shower.”

“I’m just going to fuck you again later.”

“Ok.”

The two were silent for a bit. Rick pulled out of Ford so Ford could sit up properly. 

“What was your full name again?” 

“Ricardo Maria Joaquin de la Cruz Sánchez del Sol.”

“Ricardo Maria… I’m going to need to write that down.”


	15. Black Friday

They weren’t doing anything on Black Friday. Rick wanted to go shopping. Ford did not. There were too many people, Ford said. That was the beauty of it, Rick said. Capitalism and greed, Ford said. Capitalism at its finest, Rick said. A smear on human nature, Ford said. Nature is amazing, Rick said. It’ll be disastrous, Ford said. It’ll be fun, Rick said. It would be participating in hedonistic materialism, Ford said. It’ll be something to do outside the cabin, Rick said. Ford lost the argument. 

Rick brought them to a warehouse store. He had gotten a small metal box with an antenna and a dial and had explained it was a remote control for the teleportal. While fiddling with the dial, he told Ford the teleportal could hone in on the remote’s signal and teleport objects or persons near the remote control to a new location determined by the remote. Ford heard the humming that turned to screaming and saw a bright white light and found himself surrounded by pallets of bulk packaged goods. 

A tired associate trying to clean up a mess could not ignore the white light to his right. When he looked, he saw a tall Latino with blanching hair and a short Jewish man with a terrified expression. They had not been there before. They were probably up to something but he didn’t care. He was not paid to do things that were not his job. He turned back to the disorganized pallet. 

Ford calmed down when he saw the associate was not going to make a commotion. He hadn’t thought Rick would do something so risky as to teleport them directly into the warehouse. Ford felt Rick taking his hand and immediately jerked away. This was a public place. 

Rick rolled his eyes. “This is so we don’t get lost or separated. This place will suck you in if you’re not careful, and then you’ll never get out.”

Ford took Rick’s hand with hesitation. Holding hands was a thing people did on dates, and apparently their first date was going to be shopping in a warehouse store on Black Friday. Tinny Christmas music played from the store's speakers. Rick led Ford down the aisle. 

“You ever been in a warehouse store before?”

“No. What do they sell here?”

“Everything.”

They wandered up and down the store’s aisles. Ford gaped at the bulk packaging. Fifty pounds of rice. Twenty gallons of soy sauce. Double pack of two liter mayonnaise jars. Rick had been right and so had been Ford: Capitalism and greed at it’s finest. You couldn’t even shoplift here, the goods were too big to sneak. In the produce section, there were large boxes of fruits and vegetables. Who would even need thirty pounds of apples at a time? Next to the produce was meat. Every part of an animal could be sold here, apparently. Intestines, tongue, tail, blood, testicles, Ford grimaced and looked away. Even the whole entire animal could be bought. 

“You can get kosher stuff here,” Rick picked through the prepacked beef cuts.

“I think I could stand to never eat meat again,” Ford faced away from the display.

“I couldn’t. I’m getting flat steak, is that ok?”

“Rick, I don’t keep kosher. Even if I did, I couldn’t at Backupsmore. Anything is fine.”

Rick shrugged and held the meat packages under his arm. He took a cart that had been left unattended and pushed it as if it had been his the whole time. Ford followed closely. Rick dumped the meat into the carriage. He rummaged through the items in the cart. An entire orchard’s worth of oranges, some pants and dress shirts, a regular sized box of crackers (already opened), two loaves of garlic bread, and a fifty pack of condoms. 

‘Well, we’re definitely going to need this,” Rick held up the box of condoms.

“Rick, I…” Ford shook his head. “I can’t even respond to that.”

Rick held up the clothes. “These your size?”

“Rick, I’m not going to wear clothes that don’t belong to me.”

“They ain’t been paid for, they don’t belong to anyone yet.”

“Do you plan on paying for these?”

Rick mumbled and looked away. Ford sighed. 

“Rick,” Ford said firmly.

“Alright, I’ll pay!”

Ford gave Rick a stony look. 

“All of it! Jeez! Did you suddenly become my mom?”

“I! I’m just trying to keep you… never mind, you’re not going to listen.”

“Nah,” Rick pushed the cart to the alcohol section.

Like every other part of the store, the alcohol section was overwhelming. Rick’s face lit up like a child in a candy store. Ford assumed there was also a candy section that could trump any other actual candy store with its selection. It took five minutes just to get past the wine and beer. After that came the harder liquor. Rick’s head swiveled round to appraise all the vodka, tequila, bourbon, whiskey, and scotch the area had to offer. He was going to get dizzy, breathing in the fermentation and spinning around so much. He’d already had a drink (or four) before they had left.

“How long have you been drinking, Rick?” Ford kept Rick from tripping over himself after one too many spins.

“We playing twenty questions again?” Rick reached for a tall bottle of vodka with a blue label. “Since like, I was twelve, or something?”

“Since you were  _ twelve _ ? How are you even still  _ alive _ ?”

“I’ve got the hardest working liver in the world. Hand me that bottle. The one with the brown top. That’s brown right?”

“I’m not facilitating your alcoholism,” Ford put Rick upright.

“ _ High-functioning  _  alcoholism,” Rick corrected. “And your facilitation is unnecessary.”

Rick grabbed the bottle for himself. Then he spotted something that made him break out in a wide grin. Ford followed his line of sight. It was two thousand dollar bottle of champagne the size of a six year old. 

“Rick. Rick, no. You can’t- there’s no way- who would even  _ need _ that?”

“Me,” Rick sang.

“No. There’s  _ no way _ you could pay for that. It’s impossible to even  _ drink _ that much.”

“Don’t underestimate me.”

“It’s two thousand dollars, Rick!”

“I got a kidney I can sell.”

Ford grabbed Rick and pulled him out of the alcohol section. Rick fussed and began to make a scene, complaining about not being able to get scotch. Ford clamped his hand over Rick’s mouth and pulled. He dragged the cart behind him. Ford found the candy section. He was right about it. He’d never thought someone would buy a 160 pack of Milky Ways but apparently there was a demand, and the demand was high. Ford saw they also sold a forty pound bag of toffee peanuts and frowned. There would always be something to remind him of Stan, wouldn’t there?

“Do you have any brothers, Rick?”

“Whoa, hey, I didn’t get to ask my question.”

“What is your question, Rick?”

“You want fifty gallons of gummy bears?”

“Fifty gal-?” Ford had to see this to believe it. 

There it was. A large plastic jar the size of a fifty gallon drum filled to the rim with gummy bears the size of Ford’s fist, sixth finger included. Despite seeing it, Ford still could not believe it.

“Alright. Sure,” Ford said while shaking his head. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“Not anymore,” Rick pulled on a jar, struggling to get it in the cart. “You?”

Ford considered Rick’s answer.  _ Not anymore _ . Well, if RIck could be evasive about his family, Ford could too. 

“One,” Ford went to help Rick lift the jar. “Shermy. He’s about two.”

“Lemme tell you, it’s a good thing he’s too young to ruin your life. If he was your age, he’d be fucking you over left and right.”

Ford’s stomach turned. Suddenly the grey stone floor was very interesting. There was another thing not to talk to Rick about. He tried a different conversation topic

“Who was your first crush?”

“You keep skipping my turn!” Rick whined.

“I’m sorry! Here, you can ask me two questions.”

“Ok, who was  _ your _ first crush?”

Ford covered his eyes and looked away. Rick’s face split into a grin. 

“Come ooonnnn.”

Ford mumbled out the answer. 

“ _ Seriously? _ ”

Ford turned his back to Rick. Rick laughed so hard, he briefly stopped breathing. “Ok, ok, so I was your first kiss?”

Ford hunched his shoulders. 

“So you went from first kiss to threesome in like, what? A month? It’s not a race, Fordsy.”

“That's three questions. Now you have to answer mine.”

“Alright. Guy named Steve Blade. Was like, ten. Blonde eyes, blue hair, jawline cut like it was from a diamond.”

“Do you mean blonde hair, blue eyes?”

“I know what I’m about, Ford.”

“What, was he a vampire?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey. It’s mine turn.”

“ _ Mine  _ turn?”

“Shut,” Rick put his hand out in front of him. “Shut.”

Ford turned around. “Good God! Did you already open the vodka!?”

“They let you buy it after you open it!” 

Ford threw his hands up in exasperation. He stormed out of the aisle into the store’s main corridor. Immediately he was swept by the traffic of carts and people. He had no choice but to walk towards the back of the store, which was ominously poorly lit. The music on the speakers sounded more and more distorted as he approached it. Ford looked back, but he couldn’t see Rick. He could only walk forward to the dark shadowed area of the warehouse store. 

Rick was aware he had just lost Ford. He was not entirely bothered by it. They had been by the alcohol and candy section. The traffic near there wasn’t terrible. If they had been in the outdoor supplies area however, Ford might have been lost forever. Given the flow of the traffic, its direction and speed, Rick figured Ford would appear in the toys and books aisle in about thirty minutes. Enough time to get an associate to get him that $2000 champagne. 

Ford walked into the toy and books aisle thirty minutes later, exactly as Rick had expected. He walked shakily, holding a piece of paper in a red wooden frame. Rick was in the middle of the aisle, without the cart. He was nonchalantly drinking a soda, as if his boyfriend hadn’t been lost to the ravages of a warehouse store for half an hour. 

“Watcha got there?” Rick asked, nodding at the frame. 

“I, uh,” Ford looked at the paper. “I think it’s a law degree.”

“Nice. All I ever get are BAs in English or Philosophy.”

“How long have I been gone?” Ford clutched the frame to his chest and got as close to Rick as possible without it appearing affectionate. 

“Bout half an hour.”

“Felt like years,” Ford shuddered. 

“Years. Eons. Time can’t really measure existence here.”

“Can we go home now?”

Rick put his arm around Ford’s shoulder. “Sure thing, buddy. One last question.”

“Mmm.” Ford leaned into Rick’s shoulder.

“You do Hannukah, right?

“Right.”

“What day’s the one I gotta give you your present on?”

“That’s not-” Ford smiled. “You don’t have to do that.”

Rick shrugged and pulled out the teleportal’s remote. Ford closed his eyes, heard the humming, saw the back of his eyelids turn red, and opened his eyes to find himself back in the cabin. He made a small noise of irritation to see the cart from the warehouse store there. He made a larger noise of irritation to see the giant champagne bottle. But he was too tired to argue. Rick knew this and took Ford’s hand. He led Ford to the cabin’s bedroom. Ford immediately flopped into bed and fell asleep. Getting a law degree was not easy. Rick took off Ford’s shoes and sweater and pulled the blankets to cover Ford. He ruffled Ford’s hair and left the room, turning off the light. Then he got to work on that champagne.


	16. Post-Thanksgiving Dick

Ford woke up in the afternoon of Saturday. He had slept for something around eighteen hours and his head was groggy because of it. His body was too heavy to be lifted, so he just let himself stay in the bed under the covers. Rick was next to him on top of the covers, snoring lightly. He was in all his clothes and held in his hand what appeared to be a sippy cup if they were made for adults. Ford scooted himself closer to Rick and laid his hand on Rick’s chest. 

“Hey,” Rick said without opening his eyes. 

“Hey,” Ford replied. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Dunno. I’m in the middle of a pretty long nap.”

Ford snuggled up against Rick. Rick went back to snoring. Ford was no longer tired so he watched Rick sleep, feeling Rick’s chest rise and fall under his hand. He learned a lot about Rick this break, but he still wanted to know more. It was his nature to consume all information about everything. Most of that data would be trivial, of course, but statistically there were bound to be some things that would give more insight to Rick’s character. What was the first album he ever bought? How did he get into the whole Space Drugs™ business? What were his grades like if he wasn’t attending class? What was his history with his brother?

“Fuck you, Bill,” Rick suddenly said in his sleep. 

Ford had jolted in surprise. Rick grumbled and stirred. 

“Asshole,” he sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Ruins a perfectly good nap.”

Rick sat motionless for a bit, mumbling Spanish curses. Then he turned back to look at Ford. “You wanna top today?”

“Top?” Ford tried to remember if he knew anything that could refer to. 

“Your dick. My ass.”

“You just woke up and you’re asking me about sex?”

Rick shrugged. “I’m horny.”

“It’s like you’re on a mission.”

“-ary position. We’ve basically done all the good ones now,” Rick checked to see it if there was any liquid left in his sippy cup. “Oh wait, just thought of another one.”

“Not today, Rick.”

“Whaaaaaat?”

“I don’t want to top today, Rick,” Ford clarified. 

“Whatever,” Rick fell back into the bed. “I’m still gonna make you do all the work.”

Rick pulled the covers off Ford. Ford curled up, expecting to be hit by cold air, but the room was warm. Rick pushed Ford off the bed and told him to undress. Ford blushed but complied. He had been sleeping in day clothes and they were wrinkled and ripe from sleep heat. 

“No, no, no,” Rick waved his hand. “Slower.”

And Ford thought he was blushing before. His chest felt aflame as he unbuttoned his shirt at a pace Rick liked. Rick grinned widely as he folded his arms behind his head. Ford shrugged out of his shirt and began to pull off his pants.

“Come on, make it sexy,” Rick complained. “Shake your hips a little.”

“Rick, I can’t dance. I’m not doing a strip tease for you.”

“Whatever, you’ll learn eventually.”

Ford flushed and removed the rest of his clothing. He had no further instruction on what to do next, so he put his hands behind his back and lowered his head. Rick gave a wolf’s whistle while looking Ford over. Ford became even redder and lowered his head more. 

“Ok, now take off my shit,” Rick commanded.

Ford wasn’t sure how much redder he could get. He climbed onto the bed and straddled Rick’s hips. Nervously, Ford fumbled with Rick’s sweater. It was brown, the kind of brown grandpas wore, and it surprised Ford that Rick would even own something like it let alone wear it. The shirt under seemed somewhat more Rick like, with its poorly rendered wolf howling at a cartoonish moon and more cartoonish lightning bolts. It was ugly and Ford was happy to take it off Rick. 

Rick had a belt with a ridiculous buckle on his belt, so he had to help Ford unclasp it. After that, Ford had no problem removing the rest of Rick’s clothing. Kneeling on the bed, Ford reviewed Rick’s nude body. 

“Aren’t you eating, Rick?” Ford murmured as he poked Rick’s now protruding ribs. 

“Yeah, I mean, I’m getting a lot of fruits and carbs and shit,” Rick waved the sippy cup. 

Ford arched his brow. “You mean wine and beer?”

“Suck my dick, Ford.”

Ford crossed his arms.

“No, I mean literally.”

Ford rolled his eyes. Rick opened the drawer of the nightstand next to him to reveal condoms and small packets of lube. Ford picked out a condom and rolled it on to Rick’s erection. Now Ford was going too slowly, so Rick grabbed Ford’s hair and forced Ford to go down on him. 

“Gentle persuasion,” Rick said when Ford protested. 

Ford had the cutest pout. And he had a  _ really  _ good mouth. Rick shuddered out a moan when he felt Ford’s lips on him. He ran his fingers through Ford’s hair, petting not “persuading”. 

“You don’t know how  _ amazing _ that feels,” Rick crooned. 

Ford hummed. Hearing he made Rick feel good made Ford feel good. A sucker for more praise, Ford hummed around Rick’s cock again. Rick squirmed. He fisted his fingers in Ford’s hair but immediately let go to clutch the sheets. 

“You been reading up on how to suck dick too?” Rick panted. “You been practicing on someone?”

Ford lifted his head. “Who would I even practice on?”

“I dunno. Bill?”

“Oh come on.”

“You seemed pretty good at it on Halloween.”

Ford rolled his eyes. Rick’s jealousy of his own lover was becoming less and less endearing. 

“If you’re done sucking me off, sit on my dick.”

Ford gave Rick an incredulous look. 

“Whaaaaaat? Look,” Rick uncapped the bottle of lube from the drawer. “I’ll even help. Get up here.”

Ford shuffled up Rick’s body until he was sitting on Rick’s chest. He spread his legs and leaned back, presenting himself to Rick. Rick appreciated the easy access to Ford’s rectal orifice and liberally applied lubricant. Ford let Rick push him back onto Rick’s dick, on which Ford sat on, as instructed. 

“Good boy,” Rick cooed. 

Ford’s heart fluttered a bit. Oh man, he liked that. Ford tried to cover his smile, but Rick caught him. His grin had a wattage higher than the bulb in the ceiling lamp. 

“Come on, ride it. Gooooooood boy.”

Ford bit his lips together to keep from smiling as he ground his hips into Rick’s. He was successful at riding Rick. He was less successful at keeping his face stoic. Rick reached his arm out to lightly scratch Ford’s chest. 

“Who’s a good boy?”

Ford pointedly looked down, unable to hide the grin that matched Rick’s. “Noooooooo. Stop,” he was now trying to not laugh. 

Dropping his head was Ford’s first mistake. This gave Rick access to Ford’s hair. It was an opportunity Rick took. He ruffled Ford’s hair. 

“Is it you? Are you a good boy?”

“You’re terrible,” Ford said between snickers. “I hate you.”

“Come on, tell me.”

Ford looked up at Rick and pouted. Rick pinched Ford’s cheek. 

“I’m a good boy,” Ford muttered. 

Rick burst out laughing. “Holy shit, I didn’t think you’d actually say it. I oughta give you a treat. Well, one besides my dick.”

“I should have topped,” Ford muttered. 

“Yeah, my ass is pretty sweet. That’s your treat for next time.”

Ford shook his head and leaned down to kiss Rick. Rick happily returned the kiss, running his fingers through the hair on the back of Ford’s head. Rick’s fingers were restless and traveled down Ford’s back, tracing the vertebrae in Ford’s spine. They found Ford’s hips and rested there. Rick’s hands gripped Ford’s hips as they ground into his own. Rick’s toes curled from wave after wave of pleasure. Rick’s dick was pretty happy where it was. 

Ford was pretty happy where he was as well. After all, he had a dick in his ass. And it fit his ass perfectly. Saturday was a good day to have sex. Ford had his face buried in the crook of Rick’s neck and shoulder. Rick was moaning loudly in his ear. He had begun thrusting upwards into Ford, clearly close to climax. Ford lifted himself up to make it easier to grind harder and help Rick out. He found if he arched his back just so, each thrust would be explosive with pleasure. 

“Rick!” Ford moaned. Then, feeling daring, “Ricardo Maria Joaquin de la Cruz Sanchez del Sol!”

Nailed it. 

“Oh, God, yes! Full address!!!” Rick cried out. 

Rick’s grip on Ford’s hips tightened incredibly as he lost himself to orgasm. Ford would probably have complained if he weren’t busy with his own orgasm. Rick was lucky Ford was far enough away that Rick’s face did not suffer casualties. He loosened his grip on Ford and reached up to pet Ford. Ford dipped his head down to allow it. 

“Good boy.”

Ford was happy to hear it. He got off Rick and laid back down on the bed. Rick got up to clean himself off. 

“Brush your teeth,” Ford called after him. 

“I ain’t even eat your ass this time. And you already kissed me!” Rick shouted from the bathroom. 

“Yeah, but you’ve got sleep breath and it’s boozy and gross.”

“You’re boozy and gross, you-” the rest was a string of Spanish Ford was pretty sure were curses and possibly one insult to his mother. 

Ford laughed. At least Rick’s childishness was still  endearing.  Ford rolled over and folded the covers over himself. 


	17. Bill is a Bad Triangle, Part 2

Sunday morning came. The cabin smelled lightly of champagne. Ford had his dick in Rick’s ass.

Pre-dawn sex was Rick’s idea. As the sun rose, it’s light filtered through the cabin’s open windows. Gold stripes illuminated Ford and Rick in their shenanigans.

“That was hard,” Ford complained when it was over.

“You just need more practice,” Rick said. Ford’s head was too far, so he petted Ford’s arm. “You did a good job.”

“Being drunk on champagne didn’t help,” Ford pushed up his glasses and got up to dispose of the condom.

The $2000 bottle was in the corner of the room. Rick had siphoned out the liquid into glasses using a complicated contraption made mostly of plastic straws. He had managed to drink a quarter by himself on Saturday, on Sunday he had another quarter, and Ford helped with about an eighth after two doses of Double Cream.

Ford wobbled to the kitchen looking for something to eat. He needed something to absorb the alcohol and he simply had not eaten for at least twelve hours. Rick followed him with similar motives. Rick sloppily pulled out pots and pans from the cupboards and a carton of eggs, milk, and cheese from the fridge. Ford expected a carton of eggs, and he supposed a carton of milk made sense, but he never would have expected a carton of cheese. He suspected it was another wonderful produce from the warehouse store. Rick whisked the eggs and milk together, then added the cheese after grating it. After pouring the mixture onto a hot pan, Rick took out the flat steaks from Friday. Quickly, he sliced them into thin stripes, seasoned them, and slapped them onto another hot pan. Ford was impressed at Rick’s ability to cook while piss drunk, and still drinking, but Ford decided to be out of kitchen in case Rick’s flailing arms flailed too much.

Drunk Rick turned out to be a better cook than Sober Rick. The breakfast was delicious.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” Rick asked.

“We should be getting back,” Ford replied. “I have to meet my friend Fiddleford at the airport.”

“Oh, right,” Rick sneered. “Your _other_ boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Ford hated that he sounded so defensive. “How do you even know him?”

Rick shrugged. “Seen you and him around. Bill bitches about him a lot.”

“Bill hasn’t even formally met Fiddleford.”

“Whatever. I’ll teleport you to the airport.”

“No! No,” Ford did not want to inexplicably appear in a crowded airport. “Let’s just go back to your room and then I’ll get a bus or something.”

Rick shrugged. He went to get the  teleportal’s remote control and came back with the fifty gallon jar of gummy bears. Ford had completely forgotten about it. Ford struggled to keep the jar upright while Rick set the teleportal to bring them home. The air around them hummed, then screamed, then exploded in white light and then they were home. Rick’s room was cleaner than they had left it. Bill was on the bed, crossed arms and a cross expression.

“Shit,” Rick groaned.

Bill’s expression darkened, and then lightened. He stood, pointed his mouth at Rick to say something, and said nothing. Ford began to say something, but Bill held his hand up. He turned with his back to the couple.

 

“It seems that I can’t keep you two from fucking behind my back,” Bill turned around. “So I might as well have you fuck in front of me.”

“What?” Ford wasn’t sure he heard correctly. “Do you mean, now?”

Bill glared at Ford, but softened his expression quickly. “No, sweetie.”

Ford blushed and looked at his feet.

“Think of it, oh say, as a business merger? Two,” Bill pointed to himself and RIck, “and two,” he pointed at Rick and Ford, “become three.”

“I don’t think that analogy holds but,” Ford said. “Are you suggesting you, Rick, and I become some sort of … three way couple?”

“You’re a smart cookie, Pines.”

“But...how would that even work?”

“Same way it’s _been_ working, since what? The last two months? Rick and I do our thing, you and Rick do your thing, and once a month we get together for movie marathons and absolute debauchery. Except now, you and Rick don’t have to be so sneaky about it. We’ll even make a time table.”

Ford looked at Rick. “Is that alright?”

“Sure, whatever,” Rick looked as if he had a mouth full of vinegar.

Bill’s face split into his signature grin. “Great! It’s all settled then! Now, you two must be _so_ tired from your trip! Take off your shoes, get some rest. Let’s crack open those gummy bears.”

“Actually, I,” Ford was unnerved by Bill’s grin. “I need to get to the airport. I need to meet Fiddleford.”

Bill’s jovial expression fell. “Oh, right. Your _other_ boyfriend.”

“Bill, how-” Ford furrowed his brow. “Never mind, that’s a conversation for later. Can, can I go?”

“Fine, fine,” Bill waved his hand. “Rick and I need to have our own conversation anyways.”

Ford sidestepped around Bill and exited the room. He had an uneasy feeling in his stomach about the incipient conversation between Bill and Rick, but he didn’t dare eavesdrop. He had little time to spare if he wanted to get to the airport on time anyhow.


	18. The Opposite of Breaking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear, sweet Fiddleford returns.

Fiddleford was glad to see Stanford. He loved his family dearly, but he remember how much he could only take them in small doses. Sometimes hospitality could be smothering. There’s only so much pie and cornbread one man can put in his mouth. Fiddleford was nearly looking forward to the cafeteria food again. Ok, not really. But he was really looking forward to mapping out dungeons and campaigns over breakfast in the cafeteria with Stanford. Eight brothers and none of them understood the fun of math. Oh how he missed Stanford. 

“I missed you too, Fiddleford,” Stanford felt like he was lying. “How was your holiday?”

“Fun, lots of fun, but busy,” Fiddleford laughed. “So busy I was barely able to do the research report for Chem Physics.”

Ford blanched.

“What’s wrong, Stanford?”

“I….I didn’t do it.”

“....It’s due tomorrow, Stanford.”

Ford drew a shaky breath. “I know… I forgot.”

“What have you been doing this entire time?”

Ford shook his head. How could he have forgotten? He tried to keep his breathing even. An airport was no place to be having a breakdown.

“Come on,” Fiddleford realized what was happening. “Let’s get my truck out of long term parking and we can talk this through.”

Stanford nodded and took a deep breath. He took one of Fiddleford’s luggage and walked with Fiddleford to the parking lots. Well, they got lost a few times. It is, after all, an airport. When they found the right parking lot, they got lost  _ in  _ the parking lot. FInally they found Ford’s truck. They loaded the luggage into the bed of the pick up and sat in silence in the cab. Stanford held his head in his hands while Fiddleford held the key in the ignition. 

“So would you like to tell me about your holiday? Very busy, if you didn’t get any homework done. How was New Jersey?”

“I… I didn’t go home. I met Rick after you left.”

“I hope you broke up with him.”

“I just happened to meet him. I didn’t plan it. Nothing was planned! Things just happened and I…”

“What did you do?”

Ford sighed. There wasn’t much getting around it. He told Fiddleford about the “honeymoon”. He realize if he left out the sex, there wasn’t much to talk about. There was the conversation about God, Thanksgiving late lunch, and the warehouse date. And then there was Bill. Things probably would have been fine, if Bill hadn’t thrown a wrench into them. And now, Ford had no homework done.

“Wow, you opposite of broke up with him,” Fiddleford said when Stanford was done. “But you did have a busy holiday, I suppose. You got a law degree. And two boyfriends. Within five days. Seems reasonable you would forget to do your homework.”

“You don’t have to make fun of me,” Ford grumbled. “I feel terrible enough as it is.”

“Stanford, I want to help you,” Ford turned the ignition and pulled out of the parking space. “But how willing are you to help yourself?”

“I don’t appreciate that tone, Fiddleford,” Stanford crossed his arms. “I didn’t intend to meet with Rick as soon as you’d left. I just want to get this report done as much as possible as quickly as possible. If I have to turn it in late, so be it. Hopefully I can ask Professor Gelder for an extension.”

“All right. I understand this is mostly not your fault. And as your friend, I’m going to help you finish your report. Because I love you.”

“Ugh, don’t say that. Both Bill  _ and  _ Rick are convinced you’re my  _ third _ boyfriend.”

Fiddleford snickered. “My, you  _ are _ a busybody.”

“By the time I’ve graduated, I’ll have made every guy on campus my boyfriend, simultaneously. I’ve started in sciences, then I’ll make my way to humanities and the liberal arts.”

The Fords chuckled. 

“You’ve always been a man of ambition, Stanford.”

Fiddleford drove to the library. They were on their way to the reference books section to review possible topics when a familiar voice and the phrase “blood aqueducts” stopped them. When they turned their heads towards the reading area, they were surprised at what they saw. 

Boyfriend number two Bill Cipher was sitting on the base of the giant sculpture located in the center of the library. In his hands was a book not marketed to children, and in front him was a group full of children. They sat in a loose semicircle, enraptured by Bill’s every word. 

“The king needed everyone to know how powerful he was,” Bill read. “He was scared of his own weakness and so he built lies to hide it.”

“Is he reading  _ Hubris Haddington: Neodictator of the Palpas Empire _ ?” Fiddleford was appalled. “To  _ children _ ?”

“Do you know another book with the term ‘blood aqueducts’ in it?” Ford too was appalled, but also morbidly curious, in the way one is appalled and curious about a serious motor vehicle collision. “I didn’t know Bill volunteered here.”

“Very admirable but we have work to do, remember?” Fiddleford pulled on Ford’s arm to the reference section. 

Once they were properly engulfed in the sea of reference stacks a college associated library has, Fiddleford pulled out the topic list given to them by the professor. There were a myriad of topics to pick from, but Stanford decided a theory on quantum dots would be easiest. Fiddleford disagreed, but it wasn’t his foot being shot. Finding reference books on quantum dots was easy. Finding books with the right information was not. Many were outdated. Some only had information completely irrelevant to Ford’s thesis. That’s the way research essays go. 

“Ok, I think I have enough books to at least make an outline,” Ford said two hours and thirteen Bible sized books later. “After that I can pad it to hell enough to fulfill the page requirement.”

“Unlike you to make an ingenuine effort for Chem Physics,” Fiddleford flipped to the index of a particularly daunting book. 

“It’s not ingenuine,” Stanford explained. “Ingenuine would be finding someone to pay to write my paper for me. This is being efficient.”

Fiddleford gave Stanford a questioning look. 

“What? I’ve had all honors and Advanced Placement classes since the seventh grade. I’ve learned some tricks.”

“You’ve learned a lot of tricks, I can assume,” enter Bill, stage left. 

Stanford blushed and looked away. Fiddleford glared. Bill smiled. 

“Hard at work or hardly working?” Bill asked the Fords. “Can I borrow him?”

“We’re really busy right now,” Fiddleford’s voice was steely. 

“I’ll only be, oh,” Bill glanced at his wristwatch. “Twelve or thirteen minutes.”

Fiddleford turned towards Stanford. Stanford shrugged. 

“It’ll be less than fifteen minutes. I’ll be right back.”

“Mhm.”

Ford sighed and went along with Bill. Bill led him up to the next floor. Behind the reference stacks for PN and PQ was a small door in the wall Ford would have never noticed in the poor illumination of the shelves. Apparently, Bill was really good at finding hideout spots in old buildings. The space on the other side allowed for the two to stand freely. 

“What is this place?” Ford brushed the dust off his clothes. 

“I think it used to be a group study room that got sealed off in restoration,” Bill found a light switch. 

“With a door that small?”

“Might have been for children.”

“Ok, so. What’s going on.”

“I wanted to clear the time table with you.”

Bill produced a small notebook from inside his vest and handed it to Ford. The notebook had had its front cover customized. Ford ran his fingers over the heavily glued purple and gold glitter. The title was gold glitter in a simple cipher: “The Bill, Rick, and Ford Show”.

“Is Rick ok with this?” Ford murmured. 

“Oh yeah, he already agreed to it,” Bill answered. “I was very persuasive.”

Ford opened the notebook. The lines had been partitioned into rows and columns that imitated the structure of a day planner. Many sections were highlighted pink, blue, or the classic yellow with a legend on the side. Pink for Bill, blue for rick, and yellow for Fiddleford. 

“Wow, even Fiddleford’s on here?”

“Well, when I was doing the first time, it was just me you and Rick. But then I realized you had friends and it wouldn’t be fair for us to take up all your time.”

“That’s very considerate, Bill. Thank you,” Ford flipped through the planner. “Really? You have my meal and sleep times planned out.”

“I have to be thorough about these sort of things. Also, if you didn’t have this sort of structure, how long would you try to go without sleeping or eating? Blue Sting and Soylent Green won’t keep you alive forever.”

Well, that was true, but Ford wasn’t about to admit that. “What’s Soylent Green?”

“Rick’s new Space Drug, trademark. Makes you not hungry. Light greenish?”

“I haven’t had that one. I don’t need any more Space Drugs, trademark, anyways.”

Bill quirked his brow and looked like he had something to say, but dropped it. “So, is it ok?”

Ford skimmed the other pages. “It looks fine. I’m impressed you actually went through the trouble of making this.”

“Hey, I want this to work, don’t I?” Bill check his watch. “And we still have seven minutes left. And it’s my turn on the timetable.”

“Bill, I’m not going to have sex in public.”

“Public? There’s no one around. No one’s gonna notice the door in  _ that _ light.”

“But in a  _ library _ , Bill?”

Bill grinned and placed a hand on Ford’s chest. “You can keep quiet, can’t you?”

Ford would have said something if Bill hadn’t interrupted him with a kiss. Bill kissed softer than Rick did. He also used cherry cola chapstick. Bill pulled away with a smug smile. Ford sighed. He wasn’t getting out of this. Bill chuckled and kissed Ford again. The taste of cherry cola was a strong as the first time. Ford felt Bill’s hands wrap around his waist as Bill’s lips moved to the crook of Ford’s neck. 

“Rick says you’ve liked me for a while,” Ford whispered.  

“We’re not talking about Rick right now,” Bill pulled off Ford’s sweater. “We only have six minutes.”

Bill kissed down Ford’s sternum and stomach. On his knees, Bill expertly unfastened Ford’s pants and pulled them down. Ford’s cheeks tinted pink. Despite his protests earlier, he was already partially aroused. Bill took Ford’s semi and stroked it to full mast. In that instant, Ford was very glad Bill always seemed to wear leather gloves. Bill produces a condom, apparently from his sleeve, and rolled it onto Ford’s erection. He took a long lick and smack his lips. 

“Mmmmmm,” Bill made a show of licking his lips. “Strawberry shortcake.”

Ford would have asked where Bill even got flavored condoms, but he was too busy keeping himself quiet. He focused on keeping his breathing even, but Bill was making it very difficult. He was humming something Ford couldn’t catch, but the vibrations from Bill’s throat felt so good Ford had to clamp his hand over his mouth to keep his moans from getting too loud. 

The way Bill gave head was erratic. He would bob his head really fast, fast enough that Ford would be on the edge of orgasm, but then Bill would slow down or stop completely. It was dizzying. Ford had his eyes closed, so he couldn’t see what Bill was up to with this maddening teasing but he heard the puff of an inhaler, so maybe Bill was just taking a breather. Bill hummed something different when he put Ford’s penis back in his mouth. It was something slightly more recognizable, but Ford couldn’t quite pin it. He was too lightheaded from breathing so hard in poor attempts to not moan. 

“Bill, stop teasing,” Ford whined. “There’s only two minutes left.”

Bill laughed around Ford’s dick. He was aware, but time went nothing to him. Fiddleford could stand to learn a little patience. Ford, however, had homework to do and had to hurry things along. Bill’s hair was not as easy to grab as Rick’s, but Ford managed. If Bill had any complaints about Ford taking charge, he didn’t show it. In fact, Bill seemed pleased to be the submissive. He moaned enthusiastically as Ford thrust into his mouth. So much for being quiet. Ford doubled over as he came, screaming into his hand. 

“See, wasn’t that fun?” Bill giggled.

“I really hope no one heard us,” Ford panted. “This is a quiet zone.”

“Don’t be so uptight, Sixer,” Bill wiped his mouth and stood up. “Fix your clothes.”

Ford sighed, took off the condom, and made himself presentable. He and Bill crawled out of the secret room and Ford threw the used condom in a small trash bin and covered it with paper debris. he felt sorry for the janitor who would have to deal with that. Bill hurried him along. There was thirty seconds left on the clock, but Ford doubted Fiddleford would have noticed if he was only a minute or two late.

But Fiddleford did notice. “Three minutes.”

“A fifteen minute break won’t kill my grade, Fiddleford,” Ford took his seat at the table laden with books.

“Your hair’s a mess,” Fiddleford noticed everything.

“No, it’s not,” Stanford immediately tried to smooth it out.

Fiddleford narrowed his eyes. “What were you and him up to?”

Stanford looked away. Fiddleford furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but then understood.

“You  _ didn’t. _ In a  _ library? _ ” Fiddleford hissed. 

“Shut up!” Ford hissed back. “We didn’t!”

“You goddamn liar. That’s disgusting.”

“First of all, it wasn’t  _ my _ idea! Second, that’s not what Bill called me up for.”

“Oh, really?” Fiddleford crossed his arms. “Then what was it?”

“Do you really need to know?”

Fiddleford sighed. “Do I want to?”

Stanford deliberated. “Well, it won’t kill you.”

Stanford showed Fiddleford the purple journal. 

“What the hell is this?” Fiddleford flipped through the pages. 

Stanford frowned, blushing. “It’s a time table.”

“A  _ time table _ ?” Fiddleford sneered. 

Ford looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. With Bill, it seemed like a good idea. Now that Fiddleford was looking through it, it seemed kinda silly. 

“Why am  _ I  _ in here?”

“Oh, uh. Remember that joke about you being my third boyfriend? I think Bill takes it seriously.”

Fiddleford’s face contorted into a complete grimace. “He’s got your entire day planned out. Don’t you think that’s a little possessive?”

Stanford paused. He didn’t think of it like that. 

“No?”

Fiddleford sighed and put the time table down. “Anyways, that can be a conversation for later. Let’s try to finish this, shall we?”

They turned their attention to the books on the table. In the time Ford had been away, Fiddleford had skimmed through some of the reference books and had placed sticky notes on pages that might have held useful information to Ford’s paper. Ford wrote down the information, the proper citation for the books, and managed to compile all the information into a three page outline suitable for proof that Ford had at least done  _ some  _ work on the assignment. Stanford went to check out books that seemed to hold the most relevant information while Fiddleford put away the others. 

“Do you want to get food after this?” Ford asked when they were out of the library. 

“Burgers and fries sound good.”

They drove to a somewhat dingy looking place called the Neon Burger. It was tacky as hell, obvious neon lights, two foot plastic figurines of mascot characters with too wide smiles, but really good food. The two Fords sat in a corner booth under a pink light that drowned out any other color. Ford idly thought about how the weirdness of the place matched Bill’s general aesthetic. 

“What did you mean about that conversation for later?” Thinking of Bill reminded Ford about that comment Fiddleford made about the time table. 

“Hmm, what?” Fiddleford had been engrossed in the diner’s menu, struggling to read the print in the pink light. 

“Bill’s time table. You said it was possessive,” Stanford decided he would order a simple burger and fries and skip fussing with the menu. 

“I’m just wagging a cautionary tail. It just seems to me that he’s planning out your whole day. Are you really going to let him tell you when you can and can’t see your own friends?” Fiddleford found what he wanted and waved down a waitress. 

“It’s just a gag, Fidds. I don’t have to actually follow it to the letter. Bill’s just very thorough.”

The waitress arrived with her pencil already to pad. 

“But why is there a timetable in the first place? I’ll have the number six, please. Can’t you manage your day in your own?”

“I’ll just have the regular with a custard cream shake. I mean, I could. But it’s really hard to dissuade Bill after he gets certain ideas.”

The waitress left and took their menus with her. 

“Like the, shall we call it the Library Incident?”

“Tha-that can’t be counted as an incident because it didn’t cause any trouble. Anyways, you’re worrying too much. Bill’s not going to hurt me.”

“I just don’t understaaaaaaaand,” Fiddleford threw his hands up in the air. “Is it a gay thing?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure, it’s a gay thing.”

“You don’t seem so sure.”

Ford folded his arm defensively. “Well, I’m new to this. There wasn’t an orientation-”

Fiddleford snickered.

“Shut up. There wasn’t a beginner’s seminar on being a homosexual after I kissed Rick,” Ford paused. “Or rather, he kissed me. And then…”

Fiddleford slapped his hands over his ears. “I don’t need to know!”

Stanford rolled his eyes. “Don’t be gross, I wasn’t going to tell you  _ that.” _

_ “ _ Talk to  _ me _ about gross, you just did it in a library!”

The waitress had come back with their orders. “I can come back,” she said. “If this is a bad time.”

Ford looked pointedly out the window, leaving Fiddleford to face the waitress and accept the food with a beetred face. The waitress left quickly after the trays of food were safely out of her arms. Fiddleford immediately began chewing on the chicken and hamburger combo he ordered. Ford picked at his fries. The boys ate in silence.  

_ “ _ Sorry,” Fiddleford mumbled after a while. 

“ ‘S cool,” Ford took a sip of the custard cream shake. 

“How’s that taste anyways?” Fiddleford reached over the table and stole Stanford’s cream shake. “Wow, it is vile. You put this in your mouth?”

Stanford shrugged. “I’ve put worse things in it.”

“Ok, see! See. You’re being gross again.”

“ _ Christ on the cross, _ I was  _ referring  _ to my mom’s cooking but  _ ok.  _ Since  _ you _ want to be gross, I can tell you-”

“Shut! Shuuuuuuut. Shut the fuck up,” Fiddleford threw a french fry at Stanford. “I’m so not listening to this.”

Ford threw a fry back. “You started it!”

“No, it’s you!” Fiddleford threw a tomato. “You’re gross. You put gross things in your mouth.”

“You eat  _ tomatoes,  _ Fidds! And you just threw one at me! That makes you like, the King of Gross.”

“Milkshakes are worse than tomatoes, Ford! Milk ain’t supposed to go into human stomachs!  _ You’re  _ the King of Gross. You’re like the Reigning Supreme, the Emperor, of Gross. Oh my god, don't put fries in your shake, that’s just plain nasty.”

“No, what  _ would _ be nasty would be like, a tomato milkshake.”

“Christ. Who would even drink that.”

“Bill.”

“It’s official, Stanford. You have the worst boyfriend. Congratulations.”

Ford rolled his eyes and ate the rest of his food. Fiddleford went into a little more detail about his vacation. Family was doing well, sisters were growing big. They’d gone to an amusement park on Black Friday. Overall, he’s had a busy long weekend, even if he hadn’t gotten a law degree. The boys finished their food and left. They both made sure to tip the waitress, though neither of them could look her in the eye. They drove slowly to Backupsmore, idly chatting on the way. Fiddleford saw Ford off to his dorm before going back to his own. 


	19. Sleepover

It felt good to be back in his dorm, Stanford thought. The cramped space even more small by the stack of books he kept felt somewhat comforting. He felt a little tired; it  _ had _ been a busy weekend. He was tired enough to change into pajamas and crawl into bed, but not actually tired enough to sleep so early in the day. 

He had begun reading a less than critically acclaimed novel centering around the anguished romance between a werewolf and vampire and a ghoul when there was a knock at his door. Ford was mildly irritated: Ser Naetav was just about to confess his love to Lady Hontura despite his impending marriage to Contessa Mirra. When Ford answered the knock, the last person he expected was Rick. 

“Oh hey,” Ford’s tone did not hide his surprise. “What’s up?”

Rick shrugged. “I just can’t get enough of you.”

Ford stood aside to let Rick in. “Are you alright? You seem upset.”

“Just bored,” Rick looked around Ford’s room. “Realized I’d never seen your place.”

“Well, we can’t have sex here. I don’t keep any lube,” Ford closed the door. 

“You better start.”

Ford glared at Rick. Rick snorted. 

“Relax, I’m not here to get laid,” Rick sat on Ford’s bed. “Just didn’t feel like staying at my place.”

Ford sat down next to Rick. He realized he had rarely ever seen Rick on campus outside Rick’s room. 

“Why don’t you have a dorm room Rick?”

“Don’t do well with roommates,” Rick leaned back on the bed. “I notice you have a single room. Or is your roomie trapped behind these stacks of books?”

“I have a roommate, but he’s never home,” Ford shrugged. 

Rick looked around and chuckled. “Maybe I’m your roommate. I literally never checked in the first day. Who knows?”

“If that were the case, would you stay here?”

Rick shrugged. “I’m pretty comfy in my shit hole now. You asking me to move in?”

Ford’s temperature rose several degrees, his face redder than a beet. “That’s not what I- I’m just asking.”

Rick smirked. “Guess you’re the girl in this relationship.”

Ford gave Rick a hard shove. Rick shoved Ford back. Ford lost his balance and toppled over the edge of the bed, taking Rick with him. Rick had quick enough reflexes to put his arms in front of him to keep from completely crashing into Ford. There was a moment of tension as Ford and Rick gazed into each other’s eyes as two do in the circumstance. Then Rick kissed Ford. 

Ford didn’t mind this. He closed his eyes and ran his fingers through Rick’s hair. He noticed Rick’s kissing got softer and softer each time. Rick murmured something into Ford’s neck and placed his hand on Ford’s thigh. 

“Rick, what did I  _ just say _ ?” Ford pulled away. “I thought you weren’t here for sex.”

“Changed my mind,” Rick kept his hand on Ford’s thigh and inched it upwards. 

Ford sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t have condoms.”

“You better start.”

“ _ Rick, _ ” Ford whined. 

“Ok, fine, fine,” Rick got up. “I’ll go.”

“I don’t want you to  _ go _ ,” Ford stayed in the floor. “I just don’t want to do  _ that. _ ”

“Alright, what  _ do  _ you want?”

“Umm,” Ford glanced at his bed. “We could cuddle.”

“You really are the girl,” Rick muttered before helping Ford up.

Ford ignored Rick’s comment and led Rick to his bed. It was not a bed meant for two people. Ford found himself nearly laying on top of Rick under the sheets. This might have not been so much of a problem if they were getting nasty, but there was only so much sex Ford could have on a Sunday. He was worried his weight would crush Rick, but RIck didn’t have any complaints. Even though they had been with each other this morning, Ford felt like he hadn’t seen Rick in a long time. He asked what Bill and he had talked about. 

“Oh,” Rick sounded like he had swallowed castor oil. “Eh, my project mostly. We’re sorta… collaborating on a multidimensional portal. So far, we’ve only gotten it to work to teleport people to other places in this dimension.”

“What does Bill need a multidimensional portal for?” Ford furrowed his brow.

“Ford, sometimes Bill asks you to do things, and you don’t ask the reason why.”

“Ok, but why is he having you do it?”

“Cause he had the sense to ask the smartest guy in the universe to do it.”

Ford scowled, “he didn’t ask  _ me _ .”

“You jealous?” Rick smirked. 

Ford pouted and dropped his head to Rick’s chest. He asked about Rick’s classes. 

“I already told you I don’t go to them,” Rick grumbled. 

“You must go to  _ some _ of them.”

“Well, if I gotta turn in homework,” Rick said. “Gotta turn in a report for Chem Phys tomorrow. Class is too early though; I’ll probably just turn it in late at his office.”

Ford realized he too had a report due for Chemical Physics early in the morning. “Do you have Gestler at eight?”

Rick grunted a yes. 

“We’ve been in the same class this whole time, Rick.”

Rick snorted. “Can I copy your notes then?”

“I’ll give them to you if you come to class.”

Rick rolled his eyes. Ford pressed his forehead against Rick’s. He could feel his eyes drooping. He nestled into the crook of Rick’s neck and let himself fall asleep. 

At six in the morning, the screaming head of an alarm clock woke him. And Rick. Rick slapped the alarm clock off the night table. They both watched as the head fell and exploded into cogs and springs on the carpet. 

“That was a gift from Bill,” Ford said as the clock let out a dying guttural howl. 

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Rick said. “One less creepy.”

Rick shuffled himself out from under Ford and stretched his legs out. Ford realized he hadn’t expected Rick to stay the night, but appreciated he did anyways. 

“I thought the class was at eight,” Rick yawned. 

“It is,” Ford changed out of his pajamas. 

“Then why do you wake up at  _ six _ ?”

“Well, I usually do review work before class, but there isn’t much to do since we had break,” Ford decided to omit the fact he didn’t get done the work he was  _ supposed _ to do. 

“Then let’s go to mine,” Rick got on his shoes. “Gotta change my clothes and get my report.”

Ford wanted to say something about showering, but he figured he could go a day without showering. He got his shoes on and followed Rick out the door. 


	20. Academic Disintegrity

Fiddleford stood against the wall next to the door next to Professor Gestler’s lecture classroom. It was just a few minutes until class officially started, and Stanford was nowhere to be found. Fiddleford worried Ford had tried to stay up the night working on the report, had fallen asleep in the morning, and was now missing class. Unfortunately, Gestler arrived before Stanford did, and Fiddleford resigned himself to attending class without his friend. He took a seat at the middle of the center row and put his sack on the seat next to him in case Ford arrived. However, fifteen minutes into lecture, Fiddleford had not yet seen Ford arrive. Fiddleford wondered if Ford had gotten approached by either Rick or Bill and one of them were “distracting” him. Fiddleford shuddered. While Gestler paused to lecture to take a drink of water and change the overhead slide projection, Fiddleford heard an unfamiliar voice speak behind him.

“Hey, want a blowjob after this?”

There was a pause, a long sigh, and a dejected “yes” as the answer. 

Now that voice was familiar. Fiddleford turn around. Stanford was sitting a row behind, sitting next to a man Fiddleford really hadn’t seen before. Rick did not look like he had expected. Fiddleford had always imagined Rick as a bad boy, with greased hair, a leather jacket, and cigarette tucked behind an ear. Rick was just a scrawny brown kid with unruly, oddly white hair who looked like he built model airplanes in his mother’s basement. He definitely at least did not look like a drug dealer. He quietly cleared his throat to catch Ford’s attention. It worked. Ford looked up from his notes and saw his friend giving him the most loaded glare. Ford glared back despite the red rising in his cheeks. Fiddleford rolled his eyes while scoffing and turned his attention back to the professor. He could give Stanford a talking to after class. 

Ford was trying to concentrate on Gestler’s lecture, but Rick had his hand placed unnecessarily high on Ford’s thigh. Rick wasn’t actually doing anything; his hand was just in a very distracting place. Ford could not hear the professor over the sound of the blood pounding in his ears. 

Rick was as cool as a cucumber. With one hand in Ford’s lap and the other writing notes, he was pretty content with this class. He could feel Ford squirming, trying to discreetly move Rick’s hand away, but he simply put the hand back whenever Ford moved it too far away. 

“I hate you,” Ford whispered as he pressed the tip of his pencil into his notebooks.

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Rick snickered. 

Fiddleford looked up from his notes and turned around to see how Ford was being bothered. He probably shouldn’t have; actually, he really shouldn’t have. Ford was blushing furiously, red spreading all the way to the tips of his ears. Rick’s arm disappeared under Ford’s desk, and Ford’s legs were restless. Fiddleford turned back around so quickly, he nearly gave himself whiplash. That was none of his business;  _  that was none of his fucking business _ . Fiddleford looked directly at the board Gestler was writing on and made sure to never turn his head even slightly. Even so, he could feel Rick’s challenging leer boring into the back of his head. 

“You should put your name on my report,” Rick says as casually as discussing the weather.

Ford stopped moving his pencil. “What?”

“The research report,” Rick rubs his hand up and down Ford’s thigh. “Just put your name on mine and turn it in.” 

“I can’t do that!” Ford gapes at Rick. “That’s cheating.”

“Don’t you want to turn in your report on time?”

“Yes but, I can’t turn in something with my name on it if it’s in your handwriting!”

Rick took his report out of his back pack. “Then start copying. Come on, it’s a favor.”

“But what are you going to turn in?” Ford took the report hesitantly. “We can’t both turn in the same report word for word.”

“Could always just turn it in late,” Rick shrugged. “You got notes for what you were gonna do?”

Ford did. He was going to show his progress to Gestler for support in asking for an extension. He gave them to Rick. 

“Sweet,” Rick flipped through the notes. 

Fiddleford looked directly ahead of him, boiling with fury. He couldn’t decide who he wanted to blame: Ford for being so willing to cheat to save his grade or Rick for pressuring Ford into it. He hated this. He hated seeing Ford travel down a path to self-destruction so easily. Most of all, he hated feeling so helpless about it. He put his head down. His stomach hurt with anger. He wanted some comfort food. He wanted class to end.

Gestler was merciful and ended his lecture early. Students lined up at Gestler’s front desk to staple the pages of their reports and stack them in a neat pile. Ford placed “his” on top of stack and was surprised to see Rick turn in something too. 

“You didn’t just turn my notes in, did you?” Ford asked when he and Rick were a good distance from the class and Professor Gestler’s hearing range. 

“Nah, I made a report out of them,” Rick walked with his hands behind his head. 

“In thirty minutes?”

“Quantum dots is easy. Especially when I got the smartest kid in school’s notes to do all the research for me.”

Ford blushed. “You really think I’m the smartest?”

“Well, smartest after me.”

Ford pouted. 

“Anyways, where do you want your blowjob?”

“Ugh. Wherever.”

“Behind the science building?”

“No. That’s public.”

“Boiler room.”

“That’s dangerous.”

“Well!?”

Ford sighed. “Let’s just go back to my dorm. I need to get my biology homework anyways.”

Rick rolled his eyes, but followed Ford anyways. In Ford’s dorm, Rick wasted no time with formalities. Ford would have minded, but he wanted the business done with as quickly as possibly so he could review his bio homework. Rick, annoyed Ford wasn’t paying attention to his expert blowjob skills, grabbed Ford’s chin and forced Ford to pay attention. Just as Rick was about to put his lips on the tip of Ford’s penis, there was a knock at the door. 

“Wow,” Rick glared incredulously at the door. “Really?”

“I should answer it,” Ford said. “It might be Fiddleford. Or Bill.”

Rick rolled his eyes as Ford buttoned his pants and got up to answer the door. He opened the door barely enough so he could stick his head out the crack. It was Fiddleford knocking. 

“I realize I’m probably interrupting something,” Fiddleford began. 

“Yeah, you are!” Rick called out from inside the room. 

Ford blushed. “Yeah. A little bit.”

Fiddleford was blushing too, but he continued. “Well, I won’t take too much of your time then. I just wanted to invite you to a campaign party.”

Fiddleford handed Stanford a handmade flyer for a gathering of Dungeons, Dungeons, and more Dungeons gathering that was kicking off a new campaign. Ford thanked Fiddleford for the invitation and both of them said good bye without any more formality. 

“Finally,” Rick said when Ford closed the door. “Thought he would never leave.”

“He was only here for two minutes,” Ford sat on the bed. 

“Whatever,” Rick rolled on his stomach. “Still want me to suck you off?”

Ford frowned. “Not really.”

“Tch, cock block,” Rick rolled his eyes. 

Ford sighed. “I kinda just really want to shower and then get homework done. Can I kick you out?”

“ _ Can  _ you kick me out?” Rick laughed. “I dunno,  _ can _ you?”

Ford narrowed his eyes in confusion. “... _ May  _ I kick you out?” He guessed. 

Rick burst out laughing. “You’re a doozy, Sixer. Whatever. I’ll let you get back to your  _ homework _ and your  _ hygiene.  _ Seeya around.”


	21. Cake and Kisses

Ford sighed in relief when Rick left the dorm. As much fun as hanging out with Rick was, it was getting a bit overwhelming and time consuming. It had nearly cost Ford his great standing in Mr. Gestler’s class. He needed to focus. The reason he came back to his room was to do homework. But, also it was to shower. Ford went to check the time on his clock, but saw the smashed pieces of it on the carpet by his bed. Well, if he had to guess, it was probably somewhere around noon. He’d never taken a shower this late before (if he didn’t shower in the morning, he wouldn’t shower at all). Ford hoped that everyone else on his floor had already woken up and gone to their classes, so the communal bathroom would be empty. 

No such luck. Someone was in there, with a guest. Stanford wanted to chastise them for breaking rules. No more than two feet were allowed in a shower stall! Mostly, he wanted to get his shower over with and get out before he was noticed and he had to face whatever floormate this was knowing about their illicit relationship. It was the fastest shower he ever took. He changed into the clothes he had shoved into his shower bag in the bench space next to the stall (like he would ever be caught wandering the dorm halls in just a towel. What if he accidentally locked himself out? Then he would have to walk all the way to the dorm center in a towel to ask for a replacement key. He’d rather die). The couple in shower stall were just finishing up so Ford bolted back to his room. 

In his room, Ford tossed his old clothing into his laundry pile and sat down at his desk to start on his homework. Then there was a knock on his door. 

“Come ON!” He whined. Would he never get any homework done? Ever again? 

There was another knock. Ford could already tell who it was. He’d just sent Rick off and Fiddleford probably would not bother him again until Friday. 

“Bill,” Ford regretted opening the door. “What is it?”

“I thought you might like this,” Bill placed a...a shape in Ford’s hands. 

Ford stared at the thing. It appeared to be some sort of gourd with a face. Its mouth was open in a wide grin. Between its teeth were digital numbers separated by a colon. Ford gaped. 

“I saw it at the carnival and thought of you,” Bill explained. 

Well the thing and Ford did have a similar nose shape. “So you turned it into a clock?”

“Yes!” Bill sounded absurdly proud of himself. 

Well, Ford did need a new clock after Rick had slapped his old one to death. 

“Well...thank you. Bill. Is there something you wanted?”

“Yes, come with me to my apartment and eat cake.”

Ford stared at his boyfriend. “Bill, I have class in two hours and homework to do.”

“Skip it!”

“Goodbye, Bill,” Ford made to close the door, but Bill kept it ajar with his cane. 

“Come onnnnnnn,” Bill whined. “My family sent me cake and I can’t eat it all by myself!”

What an absurd reason to distract me from my studies, Ford thought. “Can’t you just save the rest for later?” 

“...no? Come onnnnnn! Aren’t you curious about where I live?” 

Ford stopped trying to kick Bill’s cane out of his doorway. Why and how did Bill know about that? Did Rick tell him something? 

“Come onnnnnn! You know you’re gonna say yes to me.”

Ford scowled. This was a trap and he was being played like a sucker. But the prospect of finding out where Bill lived, what kind of environment Bill lived in, intrigued Ford. You could learn a lot about a person just from their living space. It was a line too tempting to not bite. 

“Fine,” Ford opened his door. “But I will take my homework with me. I am going to complete it while I am at your apartment while I eat your cake.”

“You telling me or yourself?” Bill snickered. “Fine, whatever, grab it and let’s go.”

 

Bill’s apartment, which Bill had previously always claimed was located “away”, turned out to be pretty far away from school. Or town even. It was located in a stretch of land between Backupsmore’s town and the next one. It was also located in the middle of the road. Actually, that was an incorrect description, and would give people the wrong image about it. Bill’s apartment was located under the road. 

Ford couldn’t process it. Bill had driven them out to an empty land plot to park his car, walked to the middle of the road, and then lifted the manhole in the road. The manhole had a pull tab. Then Bill simply jumped in, and, alarmed, Ford followed suite. Ford had expected a sewer. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe some sort elaborate prank from Bill pertaining a joke about living in the trash. If that were the case, a simple trip to a dumpster would have done just fine. But instead, Ford found himself in a very pink bathroom. 

It was a small room, cramped with two people occupying it at once. The floor, the walls, and the ceiling were tiled with pink and white tile, the white tiles having gold triangles with eyes engraved into their stone. On the far side of the room, which was not very far at all, was a pink bathtub. Right next to it was a pink toilet. Across from the toilet, a white sink. Above the sink, a mirrored medicine cabinet. Next to the cabinet, a towel dispenser. 

“Bill….” Ford couldn’t appreciate the irony of expecting a sewer and finding a bathroom because the irony was completely lost on him. “Do you  _ live  _ here?”

“Yeah, it’s cheaper than anything in town. And look!” Bill pulled a sealed plastic packet from the towel dispenser. “It comes with scented towelettes!”

Ford sat down on the toilet, overwhelmed and bewildered. “I’m not going to get any work done here,” he moaned.  

Bill ignored Ford and opened the medicine cabinet, where he had been keeping the cake. Were refrigerated medicine cabinets a thing, Ford wondered. Then he decided it didn’t matter. The whole scenario was so bizarre, they could be a thing if they wanted. 

Bill’s cake was the average sized sheet cake and hideously decorated. It has been covered in black frosting and lined with blue violet flowers at the edges. White icing spelled out “YOU ARE DEAD TO US” in a large cursive font. 

“Yeah, so, my parent guardian isn’t too pleased about me going into dentistry,” Bill produced plates and cutlery from the medicine cabinet as well. “Wanted me to go into theater, like my brother.”

Bill put the cake and plates down on Ford’s lap and struck a pose, hands clasped together. “Romeo, o Romeo, wherefort art thou Romeo?”

Bill struck another pose, dramatically leaning back with one hand pushed out and the other pushed against his temple. “Billiam, o Billiam, whyfort couldn’t thou be like Billford?”

Ford was...surprised. For some reason, he never thought of Bill as having family. He’d always just assumed Bill came into existence at the beginning of time out of sheer willpower. But only because that’s what Bill had told him and the story was so outlandish that Ford thought Bill would prefer not talking about it. After all, the last time Ford had asked about Bill’s family, Bill had replied “Not Anymore” so ominously, Ford decided that was indeed the correct answer and never brought it up again. Ford looked at the writing on the cake. Looks like it was the correct answer. 

Bill sat down in the bathtub, his legs dangling over the rim. He took the cake from Ford and cut it in half. After coaxing one half onto a plate and handing that plate to Stanford, Bill dug into his half. Ford was hesitant. “YOU ARE DEAD” the cake screamed at him, elegantly. Unnerved, Ford took his fork and scrambled the lettering. “YOU ARE” the cake told him. Ford liked this message better, but didn’t feel like philosophizing with a cake. He began eating. 

Perhaps, because he just found out about Bill’s family, Ford didn’t expect the cake to have the same strange flavor profiles that Bill seemed to love. Then again, Ford’s own family shared a sweet tooth, so Bill’s family could share a weird tooth. The cake had bacon in it, along with cashews and maple syrup. It actually tasted pretty ok. Ford was grateful this was not the worst food combination to exist. He’d seen Bill eat dried anchovies with powdered sugar. That would have been too repulsive as a cake, or anything really. 

“It’s good for a cake that’s disowning you,” Ford said. 

“Eh,” Bill shrugged. “I like Billnathan’s stuff better. You should try their thousand year old egg and champagne soaked kale cupcakes.”

“I-I don’t think I want to eat a thousand year old egg. And what on earth is kale? Also, his name is Billnathan? Does your family call him Nate?” This was the most Bill had ever offered about his family. 

“No, we just call them Bill,” Bill picked at his cake. 

“And your parents aren’t mad he went into baking?” Ford found the flavor of the cake to be more and more tolerable as he kept eating. 

“I only have one parent. And Billnathan’s my cousin so Billmont doesn’t care what they do. All Billmont cares about is that their kids are out performing.”

Ford put his fork down. “Bill, I think that, given this absurdist lifestyle you’ve set for yourself, your entire life is a performance, and you deserve whatever reprieve you get from looking at teeth.”

“Awwwww,” Bill cooed. “That means a lot. I mean, to me. In the general scheme of things, the fact that you can string any set of words together in any order mean your words mean absolutely nothing, but it really just validates where I know I belong: wrist deep in oral cavities.”

Ford chuckled. That wasn’t the angle he was going for, but as long as Bill was happy with it, Ford would take it. 

“Speaking of being wrist deep in cavities,” Bill began. 

“Oh no,” Ford replied automatically. He wasn’t exactly sure where the conversation was gonna go with that turn, but he had a feeling it would be horrible and weird. 

Bill laughed. “You’re right. Should save that for later.”

Ford let out a sigh of relief.

“But we’re still gonna have sex in this tub.”

Ford’s fork dropped to the floor. 

“Don’t look so surprised, Sixer! You knew there was an approximately 76% chance of this happening.”

Ford groaned. He actually did know that. He was hoping on the other 24% that it wouldn’t happen. Unlike his brother Stanley, he was a terrible gambler. 

“Bill, couldn’t we...not have sex?” Ford asked. “I’d be happy with just kissing.”

Bill tapped his lips, thinking about it. “Just kissing? Well, I suppose the rest is just showmanship after all.” 

Ford lifted his eyebrows. Showmanship? Bill lifted himself out of the tub. He stood in front of Ford, leaning over to kiss him. Just before their lips touched, a phone began ringing. Bill pulled back and turned to the cabinet, scowling at it. He pulled out a rotary phone from the cabinet and answered. It was a tense, curt conversation. Bill sighed as he hung up and put the phone back behind the cabinet’s mirror. 

“Sorry, Fordsy baby,” Bill cooed. “Business is calling.”

Ford assumed that mean the project he had with Rick. He felt a bit relieved; this meant he could go home and begin working. Bill collected the cake and put it back in the cabinet. Ford got off the toilet and stretched out his legs. The both climbed out of Bill’s tiny apartment under its manhole and Bill drove Ford home. Bill gave Ford a quick kiss before they said good bye.

“I’m taking a rain check on our kissing date,” Bill winked. “Think of that as a little  _ amuse-bouche _ of what’s to come.”

Bill left Ford feeling a little bewildered. He learned surprisingly a lot about Bill today, and yet it felt like Ford knew even less about his own boyfriend. He shrugged off the feeling and turned to his desk. He really had an astronomical lot of work to catch up on.


	22. End of the World Party Machine

Rick held a welding torch in his mouth. He was working behind some metal cabinets when Bill burst into room. Rick was happy to see him. Bill noticed immediately. 

“No kiss for me?” Bill pretend pouted. 

“You can get a kiss from me once you explain what the fuck I’m even doing,” Rick lifted up his welding mask. 

Bill twisted his mouth and walk up to the metal cabinets. He leaned over and tousled Rick’s hair. Rick slapped Bill’s hand away and stood up to be eye level with Bill. 

“You got me on this insane workload, Cipher. Build this piece, make that part, put these two equations together. I only have, like,  _ a fraction,  _ of an idea of what I’m doing,” Rick complained. “And I don’t like not knowing what I’m doing.”

Bill partly stifled a laugh. “Really? Seems you spend a lot of time not knowing what you’re doing.”

“What are you talking about?” Rick scowled. “I  _ always _ know what I’m doing.”

“Sure,” Bill half rolled his eyes. “You wanna know what you’re doing? You’re building a teleporter.”

Rick fully rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Yeah, I  _ figured _ . My little weekend getaway should have tipped you off to that.”

“Right, duh,” Bill navigated around the cabinets and activated the teleporter. “But it’s not strong enough. You’ve got this thing teleporting to different coordinates on a single plane. I need to travel to a different coordinate through  _ space _ .”

Bill turned off the teleporter before it could transport two men anywhere. 

“So I’m making an  _ interdimensional _ teleporter?” Rick scratched his head with a wrench. 

“Yep! Hey, can you make this thing portable?” Bill turned to Rick. “I might need to take this show on the road.”

“Show?”

“Oh, I’m kinda, like, ushering in the apocalypse? Yeah, it’s kind of a family business sort of thing,” Bill shrugged. “Work.”

“Bill, what the fuck?” Rick gaped at his boyfriend.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bill clapped his hand on Rick’s shoulder. “It’ll be dimensions away from here.”

“No, seriously, what the fuck?”

“And don’t think of it as an end of the world machine, think of it as an end of the world  _ party  _ machine.”

Rick rolled his eyes. He walked over to his desk and made himself a drink. He was too sober to be listening to Bill prattle off his “I’m an interdimensional immortal refugee” bullshit. Rick downed his drink. He could see his reflection at the bottom of the glass. Ugh, his hair was getting worse. Rick took a strand of his hair between his fingers. It was literally as white as snow. Maybe he would dye his hair.

“You should dye your hair,” Bill said.

“What?” Rick turned around.

“Your hair,” Bill walked up to Rick. “You should dye it. I’ve got some blue dye that would look awesome.”

“I’m not gonna dye my hair blue,” Rick snorted.

“Think about how kick ass you would look,” Bill put his hands on Rick’s shoulders.

Rick looked into his glass at his reflection. It would definitely look more kick ass than brown hair with weird white patches. “Yeah, that would look pretty sick.”

“I’ll bring it over tomorrow,” Bill kissed Rick on the cheek and left the room. 

Rick wiped Bill’s kiss off his cheek. How unlike Bill to do regular boyfriend gestures like that. Rick narrowed his eyes. He knew that meant Bill was up to something, but of course, Rick had no idea what. Rick put down his welding mask and got back to work. Whatever Bill was planning, Rick would just have to deal with it when the time came.


End file.
